The Mature Plan
by Cat D
Summary: What if Buffy and Angel were able to resist the temptation, in "I Will Remember You"?
1. The Mature Plan

Title: The Mature Plan  
Author: Cat D  
Email: cat_5555@hotmail.com  
Disclaimer: The characters and situations from 'Buffy the Vampire Slayer' and 'Angel' depicted herein are the property of Twentieth Century Fox, and the creations of Joss Whedon et al. They ain't mine.  
Spoilers: Seasons 1-4 of 'Buffy, Season 1 of 'Angel'. IWRY is assumed knowledge.  
Author's Notes: This is I guess the fanfiction equivalent of a pilot. I have this idea for a story, but it could turn out to be very long. So before I go and do all that writing I want to know whether anyone is interested in this story or not. 'Cause it's no fun to write if no one's gonna read it. So, if you like this part and want to read more, please let me know. Conversely if you don't like it and won't read anymore, please let me know too. I just want to gauge audience interest before I proceed.  
  
  
Part One  
  
"This plant was thriving just this morning. Now look at it. I'm telling you where she leads, dark forces follow." Cordelia stopped fussing over the sickly plant and joined Doyle on the couch in Angel Investigations' reception area.  
  
"Buffy gave it mites?" he questioned disbelieving, referring to the Slayer who had shown up at the offices earlier in the day.  
  
"How else do you explain it?"  
  
"Jealousy?"  
  
"I'm jealous of her?" Cordelia was outraged. "Oh, please!"  
  
"It's just a theory."  
  
"Jealous or not, our lives are about to kaleidoscope."  
  
"How do you figure? Angel's only been human a day."  
  
"The last two and a half hours of which they've spent down there in his apartment - together." In Cordelia's mind, that explained everything. Doyle however was often flummoxed by her strange logic, and with Angel's stunning transformation earlier from demon to human, he was having trouble making sense of things.  
  
"So? Don't they deserve a little happiness after all they've been through?" Sighing, Cordelia realised she was talking to the uninitiated.  
  
"Let me explain the lore here, okay? They suffer, they fight. That's business as usual. They get groiny with each other, the world as we know it falls apart."  
  
"Well, he's not cursed anymore. And anyway, you can't be sure that they're.." Doyle preferred to use a waggling head movement as a euphemism, rather than Cordelia's charming language.  
  
"Oh, please! They've got the forbidden love of all time. They've been apart for months. Now he's suddenly human? I'm sure they're down there just having tea and crackers."  
  
********************  
  
The tension in Angel's apartment was palpable as he and Buffy sat across from each other at the kitchen table, awkwardly avoiding the other's eyes.  
  
"Would you like some more?" Angel gestured with the teapot after filling his own mug.  
  
"No! Thank you," Buffy politely replied, before returning her gaze to the mug in front of her on the table.  
  
Angel's mind was a jumble of thoughts as he struggled to comprehend the enormity of what had happened to him, and how it opened up possibilities he had only ever dreamed of. When he had left the Oracles and Doyle he had been so clear and focused in his purpose - he had to find Buffy. He had walked towards her without hesitation, taking in her stunned expression as he smoothly gathered her into his arms and kissed her. In that blinding, passionate moment there had been no conscious thought, only emotions and physical sensations surged through his body.   
  
Now however his mind would not stop processing over and over as familiar self doubt leapt to the fore. He had been so sure of what he wanted - but what did Buffy want? She had been receptive to his kiss, but he hadn't really given her a chance to object, and maybe she was just caught up in old memories. For old times sake. He couldn't just assume that she still loved him, no matter what he wished. Earlier when tracking the demon in the sewer she had said that she was on the brink of something back home - a new relationship? Could someone else now lay claim to her affections?  
  
"I'm really sorry I kissed you like that."  
  
"You are?" Buffy was startled. 'He doesn't want me anymore?'  
  
"Well, not for the kiss itself.." Buffy smiled and sighed in relief.  
  
"Good." 'Oh God,' she thought, as Angel looked at her quizzically. 'Did that sound too desperate?'  
  
"I mean, 'cause - as far as kisses go I thought it was well above average." Buffy was blushing, nervous to be admitting things that had once been so natural between them, and now seemed so awkward.  
  
"It was incredible." The words rushed out of Angel's mouth before he could stop them. While he was sure of the truth of that statement, Angel wasn't sure of anything else, least of all what Buffy was thinking. "I just - I- I think, maybe we'd be asking for trouble rushing back into things." As Buffy looked at him hesitantly, he hurried to reassure her. "Not that I don't want to - rush. Believe me, I do." The pounding of his heart and the intoxication he felt in her presence were certainly testament to that fact.  
  
"Right." Buffy attempted to cover her hurt feelings and go along with Angel's suggestion. "You spoke to the Oracles and they said you were cured for good. But how do we know that they really speak for the Powers? I mean they could be - pranksters." Angel was relieved that she seemed to understand some of his fears.  
  
"Or there could be another loophole."  
  
"Exactly. And then the two of us would be in even deeper and its 'grr' all over again." After the sheer joy she had experienced when Angel kissed her in the sunlight, Buffy was now feeling extremely let down and depressed.  
  
"It would be smart to wait a while. See if this mortal thing takes." Angel was trying to act cool and casual.  
  
"Exactly. And even if it does, it's still complicated." What had seemed so right a short time ago in his arms, now seemed so confusing with the table and forced words between them.  
  
"You're still the Slayer. And I'm not sure what I am now. I don't know what my purpose is." The sympathy Buffy felt at Angel's confused expression quickly turned to disappointment as he continued.   
  
"I can't just wedge myself into your life back in Sunnydale." Angel desperately wished that she would ask him to, wished she'd give him a sign that that was what she wanted. "It wouldn't be good for either of us. Not to mention the fact that you just started college. And what about slaying. I mean, if you had me to worry about, you might not be as focused." Buffy's heart had dropped further and further at his words.  
  
"Are you going to pull out a pie chart on me now? Because I get it, it's not necessary." Angel realised he'd been a little too convincing with his casual, non-committal attitude, and he moved around the table into a closer chair to reassure her.  
  
"I'm not saying I don't want you Buffy. You know how much ..." He had never been able to find words to express the depth of his feelings for her. "I'm just saying it's worth the wait to be sure this is right. I need to be sure you won't get hurt again." 'Like I've hurt you countless times before.'  
  
"You know it's a good thing I didn't fantasize about you turning human only about 10 zillion times," she commented as she stood up from the chair, her cheeks flushed with feeling. "Because today would have been a real let down." Turning away from the source of her anxiety Buffy leant against the sink and looked skywards as she struggled for composure. How did he do this to her? After months apart he could still make her skin tingle with a glance, with his mere presence. She had to get in control. Swinging back to face him she forced her voice to stay calm and even.  
  
"So how does the mature plan go? You call me? I call you? What?"  
  
"We stay in touch" Angel answered as he moved to stand next to her at the sink. "Just not ..."  
  
"Literally. Funny." Buffy had to drag her eyes away from Angel's, not sure what she'd be compelled to do if she didn't. "Okay, I'd better ..."  
  
"Right" Angel agreed, as she moved past him. "Remove the temptation." He was almost breathless, being this close to her. He could just reach out and ...  
  
They both spun around to face each other, their eyes hungrily devouring the other. Buffy wrapped her arms around her body, tense fingers biting into her skin as she fought not to just reach out and ...  
  
"So, we'll ... talk soon."  
  
"I'll call you," Angel heard himself say, as he gazed into her eyes. He was searching for a sign, something to convince him that this logical argument he was pushing should be tossed out the window. But Buffy became distant at his words, visibly withdrawing into herself as emotional barriers flew up around her.  
  
"Fine." Her lashes fell as she paused for a moment, waiting for Angel to indicate that he wanted her to stay, that his "I'll call you" wasn't the dismissal it seemed to be. When nothing was forthcoming she turned on her heel and walked away, not looking back for fear Angel would see the tears starting to spill down her cheeks.  
  
********************   
  
Doyle hurried down the steps into the apartment, urgently looking around for Angel. Finding him sitting on the couch, Doyle didn't waste time asking him why he was sitting in the dark - there were more important things to deal with.   
  
"Hey, that Mohra demon regenerated more than just you."  
  
"What?" Angel seemed to rouse himself from a trance.  
  
"I had a vision. It regenerated itself."  
  
"Where?"  
  
"In the tunnel where you fought it. Then it was in some sort of factory. I thought I tasted salt. Could have been the margarita."  
  
"No, it needs a lot of salt to live."  
  
"Well, it was very much alive in this vision, and angry if I might mention."  
  
"I'll have to kill it again." Angel stood up with purpose, and hurried around the room arming himself for battle.  
  
"Yeah, but you're human now. They released you."  
  
"You want to let that thing roam free? You saw it in a factory. There is a saline plant in Redondo, We'll start there."  
  
"Yeah, but if it can regenerate itself, how can you kill it?"  
  
"We'll figure it out. Just grab the book of Kelsor. You'll read, I'll drive." Doyle stood in the middle of the apartment, a skeptical look on his face as he watched Angel prepare. "Doyle?"  
  
"I think we should bring someone a little ... supernatural? Where's Buffy?"  
  
"She's not here." Angel turned on his heel and left without looking back.  
  
********************  
  
As they hurried through the saline plant Angel's eyes busily searched the shadows for the demon, while Doyle searched the Book of Kelsor.  
  
"Okay. This is not good. It doesn't just come back - it comes back bigger and stronger. I think we should wait and call Buffy."  
  
"I know what I'm doing."  
  
"This isn't your average demon we're fighting here. It nearly licked you before and now you're mortal."  
  
"If me and Buffy have a chance of being anything, I need to be able do this on my own. I can't keep risking her life every time some minion of hell ... just tell me how to kill it. I can't keep bothering her with my responsibilities." Shaking his head, Doyle continued to read from the book.  
  
"Uh, 'It regenerates until the dark future it envisions is upon us.' Oh, 'to kill the beast one must bring darkness to 1000 eyes'."  
  
"Funny, I only saw two."  
  
"Keep up the glib. It makes me feel like we have a chance." Angel stumbled at the sight of some dead humans, obvious victims of the Mohra demon. As he gagged, overcome by the scene, Doyle held on to him. "Take it easy, mate."  
  
"The blood."  
  
"It's never an easy sight. It's part of being human now."  
  
"I'm going to kill that thing." Resolved, Angel started forward once more.  
  
"Just remember that it's brutal, deadly, and ..." Doyle looked up to see the demon on a platform above them "... here!"  
  
Seeing its prey below the Mohra jumped down, immediately sending its two opponents flying - Angel with a blow from his left hand and Doyle with a blow from the right. Scrambling to his feet Angel rushed at it with a sword, only to be punched to the ground once more. Leaping forward with an axe, Doyle was kicked backwards, tumbling into a collection of metal drums before lying motionless on the ground.   
  
Standing, Angel swung at the demon which caught his sword-arm easily, turning its face away as Angel punched at its head with his left fist. The demon sent him flying once more with a swift elbow to the stomach. Getting to his feet he moved to strike but the demon easily counter-attacked, flipped Angel over his shoulder. The impact caused Angel to drop his sword, which now lay on the ground a metre away. As he rolled to pick it up, the Mohra stood one foot on the sword and kicked Angel in the chest, sending him out of reach of the weapon. Despite his protesting body, he managed to stand and stumble away, realizing he was clearly outmatched.   
  
Hurrying through the plant Angel desperately cast about in his mind for a solution, but before he could think the demon caught up with him, tossing his bruised body forward to the ground once more. Angel tried to stand, but the Mohra sent him sprawling yet again with a kick to the back. Producing a morgenstern from somewhere on its body, the demon swung at Angel with it, who rolled to his back. Blocking Angel's attempted punch, the demon swung his weapon again, connecting with the ground and thin air as Angel desperately tried to avoid the blows. He wasn't successful for long, the spiked ball slamming into his back as he tried to escape. Leaping to stand over Angel, the Mohra swung his weapon once more, but Angel somehow managed to roll away. The weapon shattered the wooden planks that were supporting the two combatants, and they fell several metres to land at the bottom of a salt silo. Coughing blood, Angel braced himself to stand, but the Mohra kicked him back to the floor. Holding him down with one foot on the back of his neck, the demon savored the triumph.   
  
"The end of days has begun and can't be stopped. For any one of us that falls, ten shall rise." As it uttered its dire prophecy, the Mohra lifted its sword, preparing to deliver the killing blow. At that moment Doyle leapt through the broken silo roof, knocking the demon to the floor. Leaping to his feet Doyle was now in possession of the demon's sword, his own mixed heritage evidenced in his spikey features.   
  
"A great darkness is coming," the Mohra proclaimed, before attacking, morgenstern in hand. The demon and half-breed fought desperately, spinning and kicking and driving with weapons, while Angel lay in pain on the floor trying to rise. Somehow the demon wrapped its morgenstern around Doyle's sword, and pulled it from his grasp. Retaliating, Doyle put all his force into a kick, sending his opponent back into the wall.  
  
"Come on, this is the great warrior of darkness?" As the fight continued, Doyle managed to step on the chain of the Mohra's morgenstern, kicking the demon until it relinquished its hold on the weapon. Doyle's success was short-lived however, as he was picked up and thrown into the wall, before the demon grasped him around the throat.   
  
"Together they were powerful. Alone, they are dead. And so are you. What do you think of the great warrior now?"   
  
"A little bland." While the demon was distracted by the fight, Angel had found the strength to stand and try to help his friend. Throwing something into the demon's eyes, Angel tried to help Doyle as the demon released him, throwing its arms up in pain. "Needs salt."   
  
Recovering quickly, the Mohra grabbed Angel and tossed him across the silo. Doyle valiantly fought on, but his strength, even in demon form, was no match for the Mohra's. He retreated across the silo, ducking the powerful blows sent in his direction. Watching the battle from his position on the floor, Angel suddenly noticed the multi-faceted jewel in the demon's forehead.  
  
"The light of a thousand eyes ..." the Book of Kelsor's message suddenly became clear. "The jewel in its forehead! You have to smash the jewel." Picking up the morgenstern from where it had been abandoned earlier, Doyle swung the weapon through the air, slamming the spiked ball onto the jewel.  
  
"No!" The demon cried, before disappearing in a blinding flash of light. Doyle sighed in relied, before hurrying over to crouch over Angel.  
  
"Doyle, are you all ..."  
  
"Shh man, you're all right. And it's over."  
  
********************  
  
Buffy sat on the edge of her bed and stared at her phone on the bedside table. The early morning sun shone through the windows, falling on Willow where she slept peacefully across the room. She hadn't woken when Buffy had slipped inside in the early hours of the morning, having caught a late bus out of LA. Declining her father's offer to drive her home the next day, she hadn't been able to stay in the city any longer. He was too close ... and he didn't want her. He'd just dismissed her as if she wasn't anyone special - their relationship wasn't something that couldn't wait.   
  
Despite the pain Angel's leaving had caused her, Buffy had believed that his motivation was to give her a better life. His sacrifice for her somehow made it a little bit easier, knowing that he loved her that much. But now there was no reason for him to stay away. No reason to wait, and all he had offered to do was call her.  
  
It had been less than 24 hours since they'd seen each other. Of course he wouldn't call her straight away, she was silly to expect that he would ... but why hadn't he called?  
  
********************  
  
Angel sat on the edge of his bed staring at the phone on his bedside table. He should call her ... she'd probably gone back to Sunnydale already. It was early, and they'd only just seen each other, but he needed to speak to her, needed to hear her voice. Seeing her again, it was like falling off the wagon. His addiction to her was just as strong as ever, even more so after the amazing kiss they'd shared in the sunlight.  
  
Shifting slightly, Angel grimaced as the movement sent pain shafting through his limbs. The bruises from the fight were countless, and there wasn't one part of his body that didn't ache. It was all so different. It had been so long ago that Angel was human, he had forgotten how immediate pain was. Sure, vampires suffered, but nothing was this real, this alive. All his strength, his battle skills - all gone. He still knew the moves, but without a fierce strength to back them up ... well he might as well be Xander.  
  
What good was he now? He was weak, a weak human who couldn't fight, who endangered himself and those around him. She needed someone strong, someone who could back her up without distracting her with concerns for his safety. He would be a liability, useless in a fight. And what else was he good for? She hadn't seem particularly eager to stay...  
  
So Angel continued to sit on the edge of the bed, staring at the phone on the bedside table, not moving a muscle.  



	2. The Mature Plan

Title: The Mature Plan  
Author: Cat D  
Email: cat_5555@hotmail.com  
Disclaimer: The characters and situations from 'Buffy the Vampire Slayer' and 'Angel' depicted herein are the property of Twentieth Century Fox, and the creations of Joss Whedon et al. They ain't mine. 'Something Blue' was written by Tracey Forbes and directed by Nick Marck; I take no credit for the words and scenes of that episode that appear here.  
Spoilers: The BtVS/AtS timeline through to and including 'Something Blue'.  
Author's notes: I should warn you right now that this is a big piece of crap. I shouldn't even be posting it really, it's just that it's taken so bloody long to write that I have to do something with it. I know it's long, but I was trying to ... oh forget it, who cares. Continue at your own peril.  
  
  
Part Two  
  
"Buffy! Hey, Buffy!" The Slayer in question snapped out of her daze, and scanned the people in the student lounge, looking for the person who had interrupted her multi-tasking strolling-and-brooding session.  
  
"Buffy, up here." Raising her gaze, Buffy caught sight of her psych TA perched high on a ladder. Next to him hung a banner proclaiming the 'UC Sunnydale Lesbian Alliance'.  
  
"Thanks Riley," a girl nearby called as he hurried down the ladder to where Buffy was standing, an amused grin on her face.  
  
"Is there something you want to tell me?" she joked.  
  
"What?" At Riley's confused expression, Buffy looked back towards the banner, indicating the source of her amusement.   
  
"Oh, yes," Riley finally caught on. "I am a lesbian."  
  
"Well, it's good that you're so open about it." Buffy smiled, hoping that this polite, friendly interlude was at an end so that she could return to her angst-filled contemplation. Continuing her path through the lounge, she was a little annoyed to note Riley following her. Pausing, Buffy resigned herself to more inane chatter.  
  
"Oh, hey, you know how we were talking about having a picnic? I was thinkin' ... do you ever hang out at Rhode's field? It's beautiful there. Usually not that crowded, either. I thought maybe we could have a little spread ... sandwiches, maybe some ants? It'll be fun."  
  
"We were talking about having a picnic?" Buffy's brow creased as she struggled to remember a conversation on this topic. Her memory hadn't been at its peak the last few days - all of her brain's energy was focused on deciphering the puzzle of a certain reborn human.  
  
"So, was that a conversation I actually had, or one I was just practicing?"  
  
"Practicing?" Buffy's confusion grew as she took in Riley's embarrassed demeanour.  
  
"Okay, yes ... I have been known to do a little prep work before our conversation. It's not easy, you know, talking to you sometimes. It's like an oral exam."  
  
"Boy, that's just what every girl longs to hear." Buffy sighed. The one guy she did want to hear from hadn't called her despite his promise, and the guy who was actually showing some interest was far from Cary Grant in the smooth talking department. But at least he was talking. Despite her attempts to remain politely uninterested.  
  
"Well, you're tricky!"  
  
"Like an exam?" 'What a boost for the ego, huh?' she thought sarcastically. Life was grand, wasn't it?  
  
"I never know how you're going to react to something. That's why I like you so much. You're a mystery. Probably every beautiful girl in the world has some jerk telling her she's a mystery, but ... I swear. You really are. There's a lot about you that needs puzzling out." Buffy gazed back at Riley, a wistful expression on her face.  
  
"I lose you somewhere?" Riley had caught the faraway expression in her eyes.  
  
"Right around ... beautiful." His words had reminded Buffy that he didn't know her, didn't know her slayer secret, more importantly didn't know what made her tick. She realised it was unfair of her to judge him on it, they hadn't known each other that long. Still, she couldn't help but compare him to someone who did know her, through and through. Better than anyone else, sometimes even better than herself. Riley was attracted to her looks, and Angel had been too, she supposed - but a long past conversation rang in her mind, drowning out other thoughts. 'Hey, I'll love you ... even if you're covered in slime.'  
  
Not catching the sadness in Buffy's tone or eye, Riley smiled, thinking that he had successfully made his case.  
  
"Hey ... don't you just love a picnic?"  
  
  
********************  
  
  
" It's just, different, you know?" Buffy glanced around the cemetery that she and Willow were patrolling. "A picnic. First of all, daylight ... kind of a new venue, Buffywise. He said he would bring all the food, so all I have to do was to show up and eat. Those are two things I'm really good at. But I just ..." Buffy trailed off, remembering the disappointment in Riley's eyes when she had turned his offer down, despite his best attempts to sell her on the outing.  
  
"But, he's nice?" Willow reminded her.  
  
"Very, very." 'Nice'. Buffy couldn't help but be aware of Riley's positive qualities. But no matter how perfect he seemed, he couldn't match up to a certain tall, dark and handsome someone.   
  
"And there's sparkage?" Willow however was very angry at this certain someone, having seen Buffy crumble over the past week with still no word from LA. Because of this anger, Willow was firmly ensconced on the Riley bandwagon.   
  
"Yeah. He's ..." Buffy was angry at Angel too, increasingly more so. She cast about for some way in which Riley could block out the pair of deep brown eyes that were constantly haunting her mind. "Have you seen his arms? Those are good arms to have." But that didn't help - it only called to mind another set of great arms. And those arms lead to thoughts of wonderful hair, a fabulous chest, a pair of amazing lips ... God that mouth ... "I really like him. I do." Buffy's attempt to sound enthusiastic and sincere did not fool Willow in the slightest.  
  
"But?" she prompted, resigning herself to Angel's continuing presence in her friend's heart.  
  
"I don't know. I really like being around him, you know? And I think he cares about me, but ..."  
  
"Angel?" Willow voiced what until now Buffy hadn't admitted out loud.   
  
"It's ... oh ... it's so frustrating. He left me, and now he's human, and he still doesn't want me. And Riley does want me - I'd be silly to turn him down. I just ... feel like something's missing."  
  
"He's not making you miserable?"  
  
"Exactly. Riley seems so solid. Like he wouldn't cause me heartache."  
  
"Get out. Get out while there's still time." Willow joked.  
  
"I know. I have to get away from that bad boy thing. There's no good there. Seeing Angel in LA ... hello to the pain."  
  
"The pain is not a friend."  
  
"But I can't help thinking ... isn't that where the fire comes from? Can a nice, safe relationship be that intense? Riley is good and kind and gives me happy feelings, but just thinking about Angel makes me feel so much more alive than talking to Riley. I know it's nuts, but ... part of me believes that real love and passion have to go hand in hand with pain and fighting." As these words left Buffy's mouth a vampire leapt towards her from the left - and was dusted with a quick stake to the heart a moment later.   
  
"I wonder where I get that from?"  
  
  
********************  
  
  
"It's about time. Hope you got it warm enough" Spike snapped as Giles appeared with a mug full of blood. The vampire was in the watcher's bath, chained up and unable to move. Buffy sat on the edge of the bath, frustrated by Spike's deliberately obtuse answers to her questions about the people who had captured him.  
  
Taking the mug from the equally frustrated Giles, Buffy sighed and held it close to Spike's mouth so he could drink the contents through a straw. Disgusted already by what she was doing, she became even more so as the vampire made a big production out of sucking the blood.  
  
"I don't know why you're so dainty all of a sudden. You've done this for Angel ... you must have." Spike taunted. Immediately angered, Buffy pulled away, leaving only a bloody straw dangling from his mouth as she put the mug down on top of a TV resting on the sink. Already thinking about Angel because of her conversation with Willow, Spike's snide comment pushed Buffy to the edge.  
  
"Okay, that's it. The invalid amnesiac routine is over. The kitchen is closed until you can tell me something useful about the commandos."  
  
"I'm tryin' to remember" Spike protested, his sincere tone clearly fake as he continued, "It was very traumatic." Giles rolled his eyes at the ceiling, wondering at the stupidity of the vampire who deliberately angered an already incensed slayer.  
  
"How long are you going to pull this crap?" Buffy demanded.  
  
"How long am I going to live once I tell you?" he retorted.  
  
"Look, look, Spike ..." Giles interrupted while removing his glasses. "We have no intention of killing a harmless ... uh, creature ... but we have to know what's been done to you. We can't let you go until we're sure that you're ... impotent ..."  
  
"Hey!" The watcher's words were painful for Spike's already bruised ego.  
  
"Sorry, poor choice of words. Until we're sure you're, you're ..."  
  
"Flaccid?" Buffy interjected, delighted to get one back at their infuriating captive.  
  
"You are one step away, missy," Spike warned, though his restrained position didn't lend much weight to the threat.  
  
"Giles, help!" Buffy cried sarcastically. "He's going to scold me!"   
  
The slayer's patently mocking tone set Spike off and he leapt forward, growling at the slayer as he struggled futilely against the chains. Giles turned away as Buffy leaned in, thoroughly enjoying the opportunity to ridicule the vampire.  
  
"You know what? I don't think you want us to let you go. Maybe we made it a little too comfy in here for ya."  
  
"Comfy?" Spike snorted. "I'm chained in a bathtub drinkin' pig's blood from a novelty mug. Doesn't rank huge in the Zagut's Guide."  
  
"You want something nicer? Buffy leaned in closer, tilting her head and exposing the side of her neck to Spike's suddenly fascinated gaze. "A look at my poor neck? All bare and tender and exposed ..." she ran her finger up and down the said area. "All that blood just ... pumping away ..."  
  
"Oh, please." Giles sighed, as Spike licked his lips.  
  
"Giles, make her stop." But Giles' answer was simply to turn on his heels and walk out of the bathroom. His entreaty unanswered, Spike turned his eyes back to the Slayer, to find her looking at him with a satisfied smirk on her face.   
  
"So, luv ... missing Angel's love bite, eh?" Seeing Buffy's hurt expression, he pressed his advantage. "Now that the old boy has apparently lost his fangs, you've realised that it was the demon who did it for ya, yeah?" Leering suggestively, Spike grinned to see Buffy stand and back away from him, obviously disgusted by his insinuation. "I promise, I won't be gentle with you!" Laughing as she ran from the room, Spike revealed his true visage as he savoured his victory. His face soon fell, however, when he realised that his blood was out of reach, and going cold.  
  
  
********************  
  
  
"Devon said that he sent for his stuff. I guess that means he's planning on settling down somewhere ... else. Not here." Willow lay on her bed crying, devastated by her recent discovery that Oz's possessions had all disappeared from his room.  
  
"I guess so." Buffy sat on her own bed, staring sadly across at her roommate. She knew that she should be in best friend mode, consoling and reassuring Willow that everything would be all right. But she was finding it hard to be strong for her friend when she was feeling just as much pain herself.  
  
"I feel like I've been split down the centre and half of me is lost."  
  
"I know. It feels like that now ..." Trying to be comforting, Buffy found that she couldn't lie. She couldn't say that even though at the moment Willow felt like she couldn't go on, one day everything would be fine. Because it wouldn't, not if Willow felt the same way about Oz as she felt about Angel. If she did, she would still be feeling as if her insides were twisted and knotted months from now; she would still feel short of air when the thought of him popped into her head; she would still feel the pain of separation when she woke up in the morning to the realisation that the wonderful dream she had just had was just that - a dream, not reality.  
  
"Oz is gone."  
  
'Angel's gone.'  
  
  
********************  
  
  
The next morning an answering machine clicked on in an empty dorm room.  
  
"This is Buffy and Willow. We're not in right now, so please leave a message."  
  
"Oh, uh, Willow ... It's Giles." From the tone of his voice, he was clearly frazzled. "Um ... I thought you were bringing the ingredients for that truth spell you suggested last night? I really have to ..."  
  
"Passions" is on!" Spike's interruption gave a clear indication of the source of Giles' frustration. "Timmy's down the bloody well, and if you make me miss it, I'll ..."  
  
"You'll do what? Lick me to death?" Gathering together the remains of his composure, Giles continued.  
  
"Look, uh Willow, I think we ought to try the spell. Among other things, I'd like to shower sometime today. Alone."  
  
********************  
  
  
Unaware of her watcher's crisis, Buffy wandered aimlessly across the sunny campus grounds. Last night after her conversation with Willow, and still smarting from Spike's taunts, she had hit Sunnydale's cemeteries, and hit them hard. Any vampire foolish enough to cross the slayer's path quickly learnt the error of their ways, and soon were despatched. The anger and humiliation she had been feeling over Angel's continued silence had been fuelled by Spike's nasty comments, and after pummelling several demons to a bloody pulp, she still didn't feel any better. Crawling into bed in the early hours of the morning, she had suffered a fitful, uneasy sleep, only to awaken for class feeling tired and irritable.   
  
Now even more cranky after an unbelievably dull lecture, she dropped down to sit under a tree on the campus lawn, drawing her knees up to her chest and preparing to wile away the minutes 'til her next lecture in serious contemplation of her toes. She really was not in the mood to talk to anybody.  
  
"Hi Buffy, how are you?" Buffy dragged her eyes up from her left big toenail to look at the young man who had taken it upon himself to sit down beside her uninvited.  
  
"Riley." Her tone was flat and uninterested, but he did not seem to notice. In fact, he seemed quite pleased with himself.  
  
"Now, I know that you said no to the picnic offer, but I've just been at the store stocking up on some snacks for my dorm room, and I saw you here all on your lonesome, and I just couldn't resist." Reaching into his backpack, he started displaying the fruits of his shopping trip. As if sensing Buffy's reluctance, Riley steamrolled on with his chatter, not allowing her to get an objection in edgewise.   
  
"Apples, we have apples. And some muesli bars. Crackers too - of the spicy chicken variety, and last, but certainly not least, a Hershey's bar." As Buffy opened her mouth to protest, Riley continued his sales pitch. "I know, it's not your standard picnic menu, but you've got at least three of the food groups represented - what do you say?"  
  
Looking into his open, pleading expression, Buffy didn't have the heart, or energy, to disappoint him. Mentally preparing herself for some mindless conversation, she forced a smile to her lips and accepted the apple held in Riley's outstretched hand. Seeing his enormous, relieved smile, she bit loudly into the green fruit and let her gaze wander over the busy campus. Chewing on the sweet flesh, Buffy realised that Riley was waiting for her answer to a question she hadn't heard him ask.  
  
"Sorry?" she offered sheepishly.  
  
"Do you drive?"  
  
"Actually, no. I took the class, but cars and Buffy are, like ... un-mixy things. I'm an avid pedestrian." She shuddered as she remembered that one of her few experiences behind the wheel had involved the late Principal Snyder, when he was under the disturbing influence of Ethan Rayne's band candy.  
  
"It's just because you haven't had a good experience yet. You can have the best time in a car. It's not about getting somewhere. You have to take your time. Forget about everything. Just ... relax. Let it wash over you. The air, motion. Just, let it roll."  
  
Buffy stared at Riley, surprised and a little weirded out by his passion for the experience.  
  
"We are talking about driving, right?  
  
"Thought I was." Obviously mistaking the intent behind Buffy's question, Riley's face became a picture of confidence and determination.  
  
"I'm taking you."  
  
"Oh, no ..." Buffy tried to object, but was unsuccessful as Riley ploughed on.  
  
"Some night when it's warm. Up past the vineyards ..."  
  
"Look, Riley ..."  
  
"It's going to change everything for you."  
  
"Hey, Willow!" Appearing before her as if a heavenly saviour sent by the Powers That Be, Buffy spied her friend meandering past.  
  
"Willow!" Hearing her name called in a very loud, very eager shout, Willow turned and then ambled over to the two picnickers. Smiling weakly in response to Riley's polite greeting, her gaze wandered over the assortment of food spread out on the grass.  
  
"I interrupted. You've got apples. My mist..."  
  
"Wait! Sit!" Buffy's urgent tone turned persuasive. "There's plenty to go around." As Willow reluctantly sat down, Buffy frowned at her friend's depressed appearance. "Did something happen? Is something wrong?"  
  
"No. Everything's fine. Same."  
  
"Oh."   
  
"Your apples are turning brown, the way they do." Willow's lacklustre response helped to quickly return Buffy to her empty, deflated state of mind of a few minutes previous.  
  
"Yeah."   
  
Riley glanced from one girl to the other, suddenly feeling very, very lost.  
  
  
*********************  
  
  
"Geez, you mean Oz just sent for his stuff and didn't even call her? That's pretty harsh."  
  
"I only wish I had my powers back. I'd liquify his entrails for her."  
  
Buffy was sitting at a table in the Bronze with Xander and Anya, and sharing the reason for Willow's recent depression. She wholeheartedly agreed with Xander and Anya's sentiment (though perhaps not to the extent that the ex-demon expressed), because she knew only too well the pain that Willow was feeling - the departure of your lover, with little explanation and barely any closure. And now, with Oz sending for her things, Willow was left in the same state that Buffy had been in since Graduation ... hollow and with little hope for his return.  
  
"Poor Will. No wonder she's ..." Xander paused in astonishment as he caught sight of the girl in question grooving enthusiastically on the dance floor "... having a wonderful time." Following his gaze, Buffy was surprised at her friend's seemingly happy mood.  
  
"Wow. Way to re-bound." Despite being happy for Willow, Buffy couldn't help but be jealous of her apparently swift recovery from heartbreak. Still hurting months after the vampire Angel had dumped her, Buffy had descended to a new low when the newly human Angel had practically done the same thing. In the process he had destroyed all the secret hopes and fantasies that she had harboured for years - human Angel fantasies of sunlight and kisses and perfect happiness. Instead, she got "I'll call you". And no call.  
  
"Listen guys, I'm gonna do a quick sweep and then hit the sack."  
  
"Okay, see ya Buffy" Making her way through the annoyingly cheery crowd, the Slayer breathed a sigh of relief as she stepped outside into the relative calm of a Sunnydale night.   
  
Relative calm broken only be a scream.   
  
As she whipped her stake from its hiding place up her sleeve and took off in the direction of the cry for help, Buffy told herself that it was her sacred duty that she was running towards, not the thought of a pair of brown eyes that she was running from.  
  
  
********************  
  
  
Later that night a still tipsy Willow looked across at where Buffy lay sleeping in her bed, before slipping from under the covers and creeping silently through the dorm room to where her trunk lay at the end of the bed. The beer she had been drinking earlier, much to Xander's disappointment, had only briefly lifted her from her despair, before plunging her back into its depths even deeper than she had been before. Gathering various bits and pieces, she slipped from the room and then hurried into a nearby bathroom, empty at this very early hour. Surrounded by a circle of red candles, Willow sat on the cold tiles with an array of magical ingredients before her.  
  
"Harken all ye elements, I summon thee now. Control the outside, control within. Land and sea, fire and wind. Out of my passions, a web be spun. From this eve forth, my will be done. So mote it be."  
  
  
********************  
  
  
"It is my will that my heart be healed." It was morning, and Willow sat cross-legged on her bed in the dorm, examining her face in a mirror. "Now." Sighing at the spell's obvious lack of success, she exchanged the mirror for a spell book. "I will that this book speak its words to me." When nothing happened Willow sighed again, and in desperation searched for something that would work. "I will that this Q-Tip gets ... unbendy?"  
  
A knock at the door sounded, and at Willow's less than enthusiastic invitation it opened.  
  
"Giles, what are you doing here?"  
  
"I'm a bit concerned about you, actually" he confessed.  
  
"Did Buffy tell you about the beer, 'cause ..."  
  
"Uh, Buffy didn't tell me anything ..."  
  
"Oh, well ... forget the beer part, then."  
  
"Happily." Though Giles was delighted at the close bond that had developed between himself and Buffy's friends, he was more than happy to remain oblivious to their 'teenage' goings-on. "I came because we had an appointment the other day ..."  
  
"Oh. Right, right. The truth spell."  
  
"Yes, um ... Willow ..." Sitting next to her on the bed, Giles carefully phrased his words as he tried to avoid upsetting the sensitive witch. "I know that you're going through a very difficult time. But, shirking your responsibilities ..."  
  
"But ... I didn't ... shirk." Willow leapt to her feet, as well as her own defence. "I ... did the research, and I picked up the mother wort, I just forgot the doing the spell part."  
  
"Well, that isn't like you at all." Giles was surprised by her admission, and more than just a little concerned.  
  
"I know," she admitted. "I-I've been off. I-I even tried to do a spell last night. To have my will done? I was hoping it would make me feel better. But it just went ka-blooey."  
  
"A spell? I don't think it's wise for you to be doing that alone right now. Your energy's too unfocused."  
  
"Well, that's not true!" Willow retorted, offended by Giles' comments. "I said I was off, not incompetent."  
  
"I only meant that you're grieving, and it might be wise if you took a break from doing spells without supervision." Trying to placate her, Giles only managed to make things worse.  
  
" So I get punished 'cause I'm in pain?"  
  
" It's not punishment. I'm only saying this because I..."  
  
" Oh, you care. Yeah." Willow dismissed Giles' attempts at peace. "Everybody cares. Nobody wants to be inconvenienced. You all want me to take the time and go through the pain, as long as you don't have to hear about it anymore."  
  
"No, that's not fair."  
  
"Isn't it?" she whined. " 'Cause I'm doing the best I can and it doesn't seem to be enough for you guys." she whined.  
  
"And I see how you could feel that way, I do..." Again Giles tried to calm Willow, but she was on a roll and not listening to reason.  
  
"No, you don't. You say that you do, but you don't see anything." Her emotions running high, Willow's eyes took on an eerie blue light as she spoke - but it went unnoticed by Giles, who immediately removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes with his fingers, blinking several times.  
  
"Um ... Oh, sorry ... Um, sorry. P-perhaps I'd better be going. Let's um, let's talk about this later." In a daze Giles made his way out of the dorm room, leaving a still frustrated Willow behind him.  
  
  
********************  
  
  
"Elobe, enemy, be now quiet." Walking around Spike where he sat chained up on the floor, Giles waved a bundle of smoking herbs in the vampire's direction, while squinting at read from a spell book.   
  
"You know, I'm not too keen about this spell stuff." Spike remarked. "Tends to be a bit unpredictable."  
  
"Yes, well, you might have thought about that sooner." Giles retorted, deliberately waving the herbs towards Spike's face. "Um ... let your deceitful tongue be ... broken? Uh ... Let no ..." Removing his glasses he squinted even harder at the text. " ... Untruths ... be spoken." Putting the book down in disgust, Giles reached into his pocket for a handkerchief to clean his glasses with. Failing to notice the key that fell to the floor in the process, he also was unaware of the now very alert vampire's boot that was easing across the floor.  
  
"Hey, what's that all about?" said vampire asked, trying to cover his actions.  
  
"Hmm? Oh, nothing." Giles replied dismissively. "I just got ash in my eye."  
  
"Well, I won't have you doin' mojo on me if you can't read properly." Spike was working quickly and quietly at releasing his restraints. "You might turn me into a stink beetle or what all."  
  
"T'would be a generous ending for you, Spike." Giles was stunned when the now free vampire leapt to his feet, and shoved him aside as he dashed for the door.  
  
  
********************  
  
  
"Hello? Ugh ... I'll be right there." Buffy hung up her phone and turned to Willow. "Spike escaped," she explained, as she started gathering weapons from her bedside cabinet.  
  
"A-And you're going?" Willow complained. "Now?"  
  
"Sorry ... duty thing." In truth Buffy was a little glad to be getting out of their room, given the pitiful state Willow was in. She knew it was unfair of her to think that way, especially because she knew exactly how hurt Willow was feeling, especially after her fight with Giles. Which she had whined to Buffy about in great length. However Buffy was finding it very draining playing the comforter and reassurer role right now, because comfort and reassurance were things that she was desperately in need of herself. Hence her willingness to go find Spike - kicking some vampire ass was about the only thing she took pleasure in at the moment.  
  
"Well, I mean, what's the rush? Spike can't hurt anyone, right? And I figured since I'm kinda grievey, we could, uh ... you know, have a girl's night. We could eat sundaes and watch Steel Magnolias and you can tell me how, at least I don't have diabetes."  
  
"Will, I can't hang out with you until I get Spike back to Giles, you know that. Okay, I'll be back as soon as I can. I promise." Buffy hurried out the door, leaving a very sulky Willow behind her.  
  
"I don't see the big. He's probably just standing out there. You could find him in two seconds."   
  
  
********************  
  
  
Revelling in his newly regained freedom, Spike hurried across town away from Giles' apartment. Running through several scenarios involving the Scooby Gang, chainsaws and a whole lot of blood, it took him a moment to realize he was suddenly on the campus grounds. Disoriented and frustrated, his mood became even fouler as he turned and caught sight of a very confused looking slayer approaching him.  
  
"Thought that was gonna take longer."  
  
  
********************  
  
  
Holding the small bottle high, Giles stood in front of his bathroom mirror preparing to drop some solution in his eye, when he heard his front door slam open followed by raised voices from his living room.  
  
"Hey! Watch it!"  
  
"One more word out of you, and I swear ..."  
  
Trying to ignore the argument between Buffy and Spike, Giles refocused his attention on the eye drops. He had been up to the early hours reading a fascinating account of a demon anthropologist's work in the Urals - so that would explain his blurred vision. They were just a little strained - the drops should revitalize them immediately. As the cool liquid hit his eyeball, Buffy's insistent voice intruded on his concentration.  
  
"Giles! I accidentally killed Spike. That's okay, right?" Blinking to manoeuvre the liquid around his whole eye, Giles lifted his gaze once more to his reflection in the mirror.  
  
"Uh ... uh ... um ... just a minute ..." The drops had been useless. In fact his eyesight had only gotten worse.  
  
  
********************  
  
  
Willow paced across Xander's basement, having found in him another audience for her mantra. "I mean, I'm going through something. You'd think every once in a while Buffy would make best friends a priority."  
  
"You know, Will, it's not like she could just let Spike go."  
  
"Spike's more important than me. I get it."   
  
"Buffy's gotta find out what's up with those commandos. Right now she needs Spike." Xander was quickly discovering that in Willow's present mood anything could be construed as an insult. However his attempt at calming her with logic and reason failed miserably.  
  
"Well, fine. Why doesn't so just go marry him? And then Angel can show up looking for Buffy, begging for her to take him back. But she won't. That'll teach him, the lying, leaving ... all men - vampires and werewolves in particular - they're all bastards."  
  
  
  
********************  
  
  
Exiting his bathroom, Giles' strained eyes fell on one of the most horrifying things he had ever seen, a sight that would haunt his dreams for some months to come.  
  
"It's just so sudden. I don't know what to say." Spike knelt before Buffy where she sat, clasping her hand and gazing at her beseechingly.  
  
"Just say yes, and make me the happiest man on earth."  
  
"Oh, Spike! Of course it's yes!"  
  
Falling into a passionate embrace, Buffy and Spike kissed deeply before hugging each other tightly. Over Spike's shoulder Buffy caught sight of Giles, and her face lit up even further.  
  
"Giles! You'll never believe what's happened!" As he stared at the hideous ring gracing Buffy's left hand, Giles wondered if he was losing his mind as well as his sight.   
  
  
********************  
  
  
"It's just not fair," Willow whined, as Xander scooted closer to her on his couch.  
  
"Willow, I know it's hard to see it right now, but everything you're feeling is because of you and Oz. Not because of Buffy and me or anybody. But eventually you'll meet somebody else, and it'll be better."  
  
"Yeah, 'cause most relationships are great and trouble-free. I don't think so. I think we're all doomed to badness."  
  
"We're not doomed," Xander denied.  
  
"Oh, yeah? Let's-let's look at your bio. Insect Lady, Mummy Girl, Anya. You're a demon magnet."  
  
  
********************  
  
  
"Here you go .. 98.6." Buffy sat in her new fiancé's lap, cuddling up against him as she handed him a mug of warm blood. She wasn't sure how it happened exactly, but somehow she was deliriously happy at the thought of marrying Spike. She had never really liked him, but oh how she loved him, she really did.   
  
As their lips met in a passionate kiss, a shiver ran through Buffy at the touch of his mouth - there was something so familiar about that sensation of cool lips melting under her own warmth ... something that added to her feelings of love and happiness, something that felt so right ... but it wasn't quite right with Spike, was it? Yes, she loved Spike, she really loved him!"  
  
"There's so much to decide. Ceremony, guests, reception."  
  
"Well, first thing I'd say, we're not having a church wedding."  
  
"How 'bout a daytime ceremony. In the park." Buffy had always dreamed of a wedding in the park.   
  
"Fabulous," Spike retorted. "Enjoy your honeymoon with the big pile of dust."  
  
"Under the trees. Indirect sunlight, only." Buffy was lost in her dream of a sunny day, a flowing white dress, and a tall, dark - wait ... no, not dark, blond ... a blond man reaching for her hand.  
  
"Warm breeze tosses the leaves aside, and again ... you're registering as Mr and Mrs Big-Pile-of-Dust."  
  
"Stop it!" Buffy cried, annoyed as her fantasy crumbled away. "This is our wedding and you're treating it like a big joke!"  
  
"Oh, pouty! Look at that lip ..." Spike leaned in close " ... gonna get it ... gonna get it ..." Buffy giggled as they kissed once more, all frustration disappearing as she surrendered herself once more to his cool kiss.  
  
"Oh ... stop ..."  
  
"Yes, please stop." At Giles' earnest plea Buffy looked up to see him sitting on the couch, taking a large swig of his drink.   
  
"Giles, did you see my ring?"  
  
"Thankfully, not very well." Feeling very tired and very drained, Giles leaned back on the couch and rubbed at his eyes, as Buffy came to sit by him.  
  
"I'm not crazy, and I know that you probably don't approve, and my father's not that far away, I mean, he could ... but this day is about family ... my real family - and I would like you to be the one to give me away."  
  
"Oh, Buffy!" Giles was truly touched by her gesture. "That's ... that's so ..." His pleased pride was only momentary, however, as he recalled the ridiculous situation. "Oh! For God's sake! This is nonsense. Something is making you act this way. Don't you realize what you're doing?" Buffy turned her love struck gaze back to Spike, a sickening smile spreading across her face.  
  
"Living a dream," she breathed.  
  
"He's gonna have to take a bit of time to get used to it, pet." Spike said compassionately.  
  
"They all will." Buffy agreed, before turning back to her father figure. "But you guys weren't crazy about Angel at first, either."  
  
"You weren't gonna say that name." Spike's understanding mood was short lived.  
  
"Sorry." Buffy instantly realized she had made a mistake, bringing up the name of her ex-lover. Who she was totally over. "Why don't we talk about where we're going to register?"  
  
"Well, where would Angel like to register? And can we have the photographer Angel would've wanted?" Spike was hurt, and on a very sarcastic roll. "And flowers Angel would have liked?"  
  
"Hey!" Buffy stood as she felt unbidden anger and jealous swirl inside her. "You think I don't live with the shadow of Drusilla over my head? That I'm not wondering if you're going to be thinking of her on our honeymoon when you're making ... sweet love to me?" Almost as if she was compelled Buffy felt herself drawn to sit in Spike's lap once more, reassuring the tiny voice in her mind that yelled this was all wrong as they kissed once more. As she was being swept away once more by the familiar cool lips a noise distracted the slayer, and she looked up to see Giles' frustrated face as his glass of scotch tumbled to the floor.  
  
"Giles are you okay?"  
  
"I rather think not. I seem to be rather ... rather ... blind. Completely, in fact."  
  
"What?" Concerned, Buffy moved to stand in front of Giles, waving her hand in his face. "How could this happen?"  
  
"A spell, I believe." Giles knew something magical had to be responsible, because all was certainly not right with the world - as evidenced by the distressing engagement between his slayer and the soulless vampire.  
  
"Well, we'll fix it." Buffy said reassuringly. "Don't worry." At that moment Spike spoke up from where he now stood thumbing through a magic book.  
  
"What you want is a general reversal spell. Gonna need supplies."  
  
"Are you ... helping me?" Far from reassured, Giles was actually starting to feel quite alarmed.  
  
"Well, it's almost like you're my father-in-law, init?"  
  
"See?" Buffy smiled. "This is how it's gonna be. Spike'll even go to the magic shop while I take care of you." As she stood and walked into her fiancé's embrace, Buffy spoke words that lifted Giles' alarm to panic.  
  
"From now on, we're a family." As the sound of kissing filled the room once more, Giles got to his feet, and clumsily made his way into the kitchen.  
  
"That's alright. I have more scotch."  
  
  
********************  
  
  
Having just left the magic shop, Spike was walking down the street with a spring in his step when a shop window caught his eye. Mesmerized he walked closer, gazing up at the display with a dreamy look as he took a long satisfying drag on a cigarette.  
  
"Spike! Spike! Where is she?" Turning, the blond vampire watched as Angel raced towards up the street, skidding to a halt in front of him. "Do you know where she is Spike? I've just got to find her!" Angel puffed, as his chest heaved due to his exertions.  
  
"Ah, Peaches! I knew you wouldn't hold a grudge!" Spike caught Angel up in a manly hug. "It means so much that you, my grand-sire, have come to share in my happy day."  
  
"Your what? Has Willie started selling specially imported London blood again?"  
  
"Look at that, eh?" Spike said by way of reply, gesturing to the wedding gown in the shop window that had so caught his attention a moment ago. "The bitch is going to look like a bloody dream in one of those things, a bloody dream."  
  
"What the hell are you talking about?" Angel was momentarily distracted from his urgent task by the vampire's decidedly confusing comment.  
  
"Look, mate ..." Spike threw an arm around a now slightly worried Angel. "... I know there's been a bit of bad blood between us, oh hell I can't bleedin' stand you - I'll admit it. And there's that whole history between you and the little bint, but she assures me that's all behind you - so I'm hoping that you can be there on our big day?"  
  
"The day when ..."  
  
"The wedding!"  
  
"The wedding." If it was possible, Angel was even more confused. "What wedding?"  
  
"My wedding! I'm getting married ... can you believe it?"  
  
"I don't think "no" is a strong enough word. Who on earth are you ..." Angel struggled to wrap his mind around the foreign concept of Spike getting married ... and gave up. "I don't have time for this - just tell me, do you know where she is?"  
  
"Where who is?" Despite his dislike of his sire, Spike was feeling in a strangely generous mood.  
  
"Buffy! Who else? I've got to find her, beg her to come back to me!" Angel wasn't quite sure how it happened - a lot of whisky must have been involved - because a short time ago he found himself roaming Sunnydale's streets, frantically searching for Buffy, desperate to fall on his knees at her feet and beg her forgiveness.  
  
"Now look mate." Spike flicked away his still burning cigarette, and glared at Angel. " I've tried to be nice - the devil knows why - but that's it. I can't have you chasing after my Buffy."  
  
"Your Buffy?" Angel was now sure that he had entered an alternate dimension, he couldn't really have heard what he had just heard.  
  
"I know! It's crazy! I mean, we fought for all these years, and I still hate her, the bloody slayer ... but sometimes you just look at someone, and you know ... you know?"  
  
"What the hell are you talking about Spike - she's not your Buffy, she's mine!" Angel had had enough of this conversation. "Well, at least she was ... but I've got to find her, beg her to take me back!" Almost feverish with compulsion Angel hurried past Spike down the street before being rudely restrained by a very biting hand on his arm.  
  
"Look I told you mate, she's my Buffy! Me and Buffy are getting married, so just sod off!"  
  
As the two former havoc-wreakers tussled with each other, neither noticed the fair young man across the street, staring at them in stunned amazement as they took off sprinting down the sidewalk, yelling and cursing at each other as they went. As they disappeared from view, Riley heard a very frustrated, very English cry ring through the night.  
  
"You're ruining my freakin' happy day!"  
  
  
********************  
  
  
"Duh dum, da-da. Duh dum, da-da. Duh dum da da, dum da da dum dada." Walking bride and groom figurines up the arm of her chair, Buffy's melancholy mood didn't sit well with her. She was supposed to be bursting with joy, wasn't she? She was ecstatically happy to be marrying Spike ... especially after the phone call she had just made to Angel Investigations. She didn't have feelings for Angel anymore, not now that she had found her dream with Spike. But still, it couldn't hurt to talk about your feelings - that was supposed to be healthy, wasn't it?   
  
So it was OK that she'd announced her engagement to Angel's answering machine, and proceeded to tell it how deliriously excited she was to be marrying Spike. And it was OK to tell it that she was completely OK with the fact that Angel hadn't called her like he said he would. And it was completely fine that her voice had taken on a bitter note when she wished Angel as much happiness and joy in his future as she was sure to have in hers with Spike.   
  
One hundred percent healthy.  
  
"So the plan is to cure my total, incapacitating blindness ... tomorrow?" Giles questioned from where he lay on the couch.  
  
"We're just waiting on Spike to bring back some tagas root from the magic shop. Don't worry - I'm completely on top of it." Speaking her fiancé's name brought a smile back to Buffy's face, as she thought about how helpful he was. He had so many good qualities - he was helpful, and ... and ... well he really was helpful. Her good mood restored, she gazed dreamily at the figurines in her hand. "Aren't they a perfect little us?"  
  
Buffy was shocked out of her reverie the next moment when Angel slammed open the front door and barrelled into the apartment, Spike not far behind him.  
  
"Buffy!" Angel exclaimed with relief when he caught sight of her. "I finally found you." Rushing to stand in front of her, he then sank to his knees in front of the shocked slayer, grabbing at her hands and clasping them tightly in his.  
  
"Buffy, I want you back. I know I don't deserve you, I know I'm not worthy. And I know I didn't call you like I promised. I was going to ... but every time I tried I just couldn't do it. I felt so weak, and helpless - I fought the Mohra demon again and I was useless. Doyle had to save me, and I'm ashamed of that. I want to be strong for you and protect you ... I shouldn't really be here. But ... I can't explain it ... all of a sudden I just had to find you, and beg you to come back to me. I love you Buffy, come back to me."  
  
As Buffy gazed down at Angel in shock, Spike roared in anger and yanked Angel up and away from his fiancée.  
  
"I thought I bloody well told you not to do that! She's getting married to me!" Spike then punched Angel in the face, sending the former vampire reeling back from the force of the blow. As they both clutched their head in pain - Angel from the punch and Spike from the chip - the front door slammed open once more.  
  
"Board up the windows, and barricade the doors," Xander cried, as he strained to pull a bookshelf in front of the door he and Anya had just burst through.  
  
"What's going on?" Giles asked.  
  
"Demons," Anya explained. "They keep coming and coming."  
  
"I think we lost them, but I couldn't see." Xander suddenly took in the extraordinary scene in front of him. "Spike! He's all untied! And Angel's here! ... Which you probably noticed."  
  
"Xander, calm down, okay? If you lost them, that'll give us some time to figure this out." Walking over to Spike, Buffy slipped her arm through his, deliberately ignoring the pained look on Angel's face. "Maybe the demons have something to do with Giles being blind."  
  
"Giles is blind?" Anya asked, as Xander walked over to the watcher and waved his fingers in front of him.  
  
"Please stop whatever you're doing," Giles demanded, entirely exasperated with the whole situation. "You smell like fruit roll-ups."  
  
"This is the crack team that foils my every plan?" Spike sniped. "I am deeply shamed."  
  
"Spike's right," Buffy said. "We really should get organized." She then frowned at the strange expressions that had suddenly come over Xander and Anya's faces.  
  
"Why are you holding hands?" Anya asked, obviously disturbed by the sight. Gazing lovingly at his fiancée, Spike smiled in resignation.  
  
"They have to hear it sooner or later ..."   
  
"Spike and I are getting married!"  
  
"How? What? How?" As usual, Xander was a master of eloquence.  
  
"Three excellent questions." Giles remarked.  
  
"What are you lookin' at?" Spike teased Buffy affectionately.  
  
"The man I love."   
  
"Can I be blind too?" Anya nodded in vehement agreement of Xander's heartfelt question.  
  
As Buffy leaned in to kiss Spike a firm hand on her shoulder suddenly whirled her around to face Angel, who was gazing at her with a pleading expression in his eyes.  
  
"Buffy I love you, you can't get married to Spike. Please come back to me," he begged.  
  
"Wait!" Xander exclaimed. "Married ... I know something ... what is it? Everything's so familiar. Work, brain ... work! Oh! Oh oh! Willow!"  
  
"Mmm?" Buffy reluctantly turned her attention away from Angel. "What about Will ... honey get off," she snapped, pushing away Spike's questing hands.  
  
"Something about Willow and her griefy-poor-me mood swings ... so, so tired of it." Anya smiled at her boyfriend, immensely relieved.  
  
"You mean I don't have to be nice about her anymore?"  
  
"Well, we're all tired of it," Buffy remarked, "But what does it have to do with what's going on?"  
  
"She told me I was a demon magnet, a-and you two should get married. And that Angel would come back begging for you."  
  
"I don't need to be under some spell to beg Buffy to come back! I love her!" Angel was deeply offended by the suggestion that it was unlike him to be admitting and acting on his feelings.   
  
"And ... she said that I didn't see anything." Everything was becoming dreadfully clear for Giles - well, everything except his eyesight.  
  
"She did a spell." Buffy sighed.  
  
"Yes ... to have her will done. Whatever she says is coming true."  
  
"And you all were affected. I probably only escaped because I'm the Slayer. Some kind of natural immunity."  
  
"Yeah. Right." Xander snorted in disbelief. "You're marrying Spike because you're so right for each other."  
  
"Xander!" Buffy whined.  
  
"You're not marrying Spike!" Angel said forcefully,   
  
"That's it," Spike declared. "You're both off the usher list."  
  
"People!" Giles had had just about as much off this wedding talk as he could stomach. "Willow is out there and she probably doesn't know what she's doing."  
  
"We gotta find her." Xander said, Buffy nodding in agreement.  
  
"Before somebody gets really hurt." Giles chose that moment to trip over his couch, falling headlong into the floor on the other side.  
  
  
********************  
  
  
Buffy strode purposefully through Stevenson Hall towards her room. Spike and Angel both hurried alongside her, jostling with each other to claim the position at her side. Her mind was in conflict as two different voices claimed their love for two very different men. She truly loved Spike ... but something inside her was saying those feelings were wrong, that she really was in love with Angel. Shaking her head to try and clear the confusion, Buffy focused on what was really important right now - finding Willow.  
  
"Why did they have to come?" Xander groused, annoyed by the constant bickering between the two.   
  
"Xander, Spike is going to be my husband," Buffy instructed, "I want him included. And Angel ..."  
  
"I agree with Xander here," Spike said, uttering words he never thought he'd say. "Seems like a lot of work for people who hunt us."  
  
"Spike, these are my friends. Besides, it's kinda my job."  
  
"For now." Spike patted Buffy's hand patronizingly.  
  
"What?" Buffy exclaimed. "You want me to stop working?" Reaching the dorm room, the motley group hurried inside while Spike paused in the hallway, a sarcastic expression on his face.  
  
"Let's see ... do I want you to give up killing all my friends? Yeah, I've given it some thought."  
  
"I don't want you to stop slaying," Angel said softly, as he hovered close to Buffy. "I think you're perfect just the way you are - please, you've got to take me back."  
  
"This is burned," Xander interrupted, drawing Buffy's reluctant attention to a large circle burnt into the carpet.  
  
"Ta'hoffren. Bastard," Anya swore, "He's opened a portal here."  
  
"Who?"  
  
"Oh, fluffy," Spike sneered, as he held up an orange skirt he had found in Buffy's closet. "Wear this to the rehearsal dinner, and the whole thing's off."  
  
"The whole thing is off, Spike!" Angel declared.  
  
"Shut-up, honey." Buffy snapped, though to whom she was talking was unclear, as she turned back to Anya's explanation.  
  
"Ta'hoffren. He made me a demon 1120 years ago."  
  
"Why would he attack Willow?"   
  
Sighing wistfully, Anya replied.  
  
"I don't believe he did."  
  
  
********************  
  
  
"I'd been dumped, I was miserable, doing a few vengeance spells ..." Anya continued her commentary on Ta'hoffren as the group hurried through one of Sunnydale's cemeteries. "Boils on the penis, nothing fancy."  
  
"Please skip ahead." It was at times like this Xander had to think hard to remember why he was dating the former vengeance demon turned human nymphomaniac ... oh, that's right.  
  
"Ta'hoffren got wind of me, he offered to elevate me."  
  
"Meaning?" Buffy queried.   
  
"He made me a demon."  
  
"Oh God, Willow." Buffy put on an extra burst of speed. "But, you can summon this guy from this crypt, right? You can make him stop .. oh my God!" Her gaze was caught by a crypt covered in ivy. "Wouldn't this be a perfect place for pictures?"  
  
"Buffy," Angel whined. "Please, you can't be serious about Spi..."  
  
"I'm not posing for chattal." Spike interrupted.  
  
"Hey!" Xander cried, catching sight of a demon heading their way. "Demon!" Looking to where he was pointing, Buffy approached the demon with a very serious expression on her face.  
  
"Okay, listen," she said slowly, as if talking to a naughty child. "Now we're gonna do this without destroying the foliage." As unwise as its deceased brethren that had faced the slayer in the past, the demon ignored her warning and attacked. Immediately fighting back, Buffy kicked the demon several times, before a forceful punch sent her tumbling backwards over a headstone. Leaping up and to the offensive, Buffy returned the favour, kicking and punching the demon before tossing it aside just as another one appeared on the scene.  
  
"Let's go!" she cried, leading the group as they ran into the crypt. Xander and Angel strained to hold the door shut against the demons, until Buffy and Spike manoeuvred the heavy stone lid of a sarcophagus into place as a barricade. Running as far from the entrance as she could, Anya crouched on her knees on the dirty floor, drawing a circle around herself as she began to speak.  
  
"Blesséd be, the name of Ta'hoffren. Let this space be now a gateway to the world of Arash Ma'har, where demons are spawned."  
  
"Buffy!" Angel and Spike shouted in unison, as a demon reached through a window and began to choke her. Running to her side, Angel tried to rip the demon's fingers away from Buffy's throat, but with no success. On the other side of the room Anya continued to chant.  
  
"We come in supplication. We bend as the reed ... in the flow of the, uh ... no, wait ... we-we come in the flow of the, uh ... Ugh!" Breathing deeply, Anya tried to block the disturbance of this fight from her mind, so that she could properly remember the chant. "Blesséd be, the name of Ta'hoffren ..."  
  
Jerking away from the demon's grip, Buffy leant against Angel for a moment, gulping lungfuls of air as she rubbed her throat.  
  
"Not doin' well here." Xander cried worriedly, struggling with Spike to hold the barricade in place. Hurrying over, Buffy added her strength to the doors while Spike stepped back, looking on worriedly.  
  
"They're strong, and I can't fight. If they get in, I don't know if I can protect you."  
  
"You think you have to protect me?" Buffy turned away from the door, incensed by Spike's overly-protective tone.  
  
"Oh," he moaned, "Not with the Girl-Power bit!"   
  
With only Xander and Angel holding them back, the demons finally burst through the door into the crypt, knocking the two men aside in the process. One demon promptly kicked Spike to the floor, before Angel grappled weakly with it, trying to throw it off balance. Another pushed Xander backwards as Buffy leapt into the fray, striking out with her leg before being pushed away by yet another demon. Kicking furiously at it from where she lay, Buffy was for the moment too caught up in her own opponent to help her friends.   
  
Angry and fearful, Anya threw herself across the room, flying at the demon that had Xander bent backwards over a sarcophagus. Leaping onto its back and tearing angrily at its face, she was promptly dislodged and knocked to the ground.   
  
As Buffy exchanged punches with her demon, she was horrified to see Angel thrown violently against the wall. Enraged at the sight, she made quick work of her enemy before dashing to Angel's rescue. At that moment, however, the demon set upon another target, bashing Spike's head against the stone floor. Driven by an unknown force, Buffy cried in fury and lashed out, tossing the demon through the doors and shutting them behind it. Turning back to the battle Buffy was seized by Spike in a passionate embrace.  
  
"Slayer," he breathed, before crushing her lips with his own. Swept away by the kiss, they didn't notice the sudden appearance of a very nervous, very upset Willow in the crypt.  
  
"Let the healing power begin," she chanted. "Let my will be safe again. As these words of peace are spoken, let this harmful spell be broken." A storm of thunder and lightening crashed around them, before the demons abruptly disappeared and all was quiet. Immediately the spell was broken, Buffy wrenched herself away from Spike's arms, her expression horrified.  
  
"Oh, ugh!"   
  
"Oh, bloody hell!" was the vampire's reply, as they both wiped desperately at their mouths.  
  
"Spike lips! Lips of Spike!" As she frantically uttered those words, Buffy stilled - a dreadful awareness washing over her - and then turned around to look across the room.   
  
Angel eased himself upright, gingerly rubbing the back of his head where it had connected with the wall. Gazing at him, Buffy writhed in shame as he looked up and caught sight of her, his hand pausing in its movement. An array of emotions passed quickly across his face - shock, confusion and pain - before settling into a mixture of embarrassment and disgust. Without a word his eyes dropped away from hers, and he walked quickly up the stairs out into the night.  
  
Now aware of Willow's presence in the crypt, the four remaining fighters turned to look at her, where she stood waving guiltily.  
  
"Hi, guys."  
  
  
********************  
  
  
Long after the battle was over Willow began passing out home-made chocolate-chip cookies to the Scooby Gang, who were gathered in Giles' apartment. Making her way to where Buffy was keeping watch over the recaptured Spike, she held out the plate of biscuits as an offering.  
  
"Eat a cookie, ease my pain?"  
  
"Mmm." Buffy took a bite, still concerned about her best friend. "Better?"  
  
"Well, baking lifts about 30% of my guilt, but only 7% of my inner turmoil. Guess that'll just take awhile."  
  
"It'll happen." 'At least, it'll happen for you Willow', Buffy thought to herself. Her own pain seemed to be never ending, and she couldn't see the trend changing any time soon.  
  
"Don't I get a cookie?" Spike whined. The slayer took no time in rejecting the vampire's request.  
  
"Well, I gotta have something, he groused. "I still have Buffy taste in my mouth."  
  
"You're a pig, Spike."  
  
"Yeah?" Spike cast about for a stinging comeback. "Well I'm not the one who wanted, "Wind Beneath My Wings" for the first dance!" Satisfied with his work, he smirked as Xander, Anya and Giles all turned from their conversation to stare at a very embarrassed Buffy.  
  
"That was the spell." Ducking away from their amused glances Buffy made her way into the kitchen, with Willow appearing a few moments later.  
  
"Did I mention about the sorry part?"  
  
"We may be into a forgetting spell later." Buffy's face conveyed both her astonishment and horror at her recent engagement. "I loved him. We were betrothed."  
  
"Well, at-at least you were getting along," Willow offered weakly.  
  
"But we weren't. I mean, I wasn't even nice." Buffy shook her head. "Oh God. Angel must hate me."  
  
"What? Why?"  
  
"Because I was all over Spike! Didn't you see his face before he left? He was disgusted with me. He finally comes and sees me - though not of his own free will, only because of the spell - and I'm engaged to Spike! What the hell am I going to say?!"  
  
"He knows it was the spell Buffy," Willow reasoned. "I'm sure he doesn't hate you."  
  
"Yeah," Buffy scoffed. "That's why he left without a word. He was so pleased to see me engaged and lip-locked to an annoying vampire, that he lost all forms of speech." She sighed. "He's never going to call me now."  
  
  
********************  
  
  
"Er, hey Buffy!" Grimacing as she heard her name being called, Buffy forced a pleasant expression to her face as Riley once again spied her walking across campus.  
  
"Hey" he offered, as he caught up with her. Buffy said nothing in reply, just looked at him expectantly.  
  
"So, I uh, I hear congratulations are in order," Riley offered.  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"Your engagement. Congratulations. Though I must admit I was a little shocked to hear about it ... and especially considering the guy you're marrying, but you kno..."  
  
"What? Riley how did you hear about that?" Buffy winced at the thought of rumours about her and Spike flying around campus.  
  
"I overheard this tall dark guy and some other guy called Spike fighting in the street about a Buffy that the Spike guy was marrying, and ..." Riley chuckled "... it's not like Buffy's a common name exactly ..." another chuckle "... so I just figured ..."  
  
"What's wrong with the name Buffy?" she interrupted.  
  
"What? No, nothing's wrong with it, I just meant that ..."  
  
"My mother gave me that name."  
  
"And it's a great name! Look, Buffy I just wanted to ..."  
  
"Listen Riley, I'm not engaged. You must have heard wrong, or there must be some other girl called Buffy out there," Buffy lied. "But it's not me."  
  
"It's not?" Riley brightened visibly.  
  
"I'm most definitely not marrying anyone called 'Spike'."  
  
"Really?" A smile was quickly spreading across Riley's face.  
  
"I can guarantee that I won't change my mind on that subject. Ever."  
  
"So you're still single."  
  
"Yes" Buffy sighed, her thoughts drifting away to a time when she hadn't been, and had been happily ensconced in the arms of a tall dark guy.  
  
"Okay, then." Not wanting to upset Buffy any further and jeopardise his chances with he, Riley smiled and walked away, leaving her gazing wistfully into space. Lost in her thoughts, she didn't even realise he had left.  
  
  
********************  
  



	3. The Mature Plan

Title: The Mature Plan 3/?  
Author: Cat D  
Email: cat_5555@hotmail.com  
Disclaimer: The characters and situations from 'Buffy the Vampire Slayer' and 'Angel' depicted herein are the property of Twentieth Century Fox, and the creations of Joss Whedon et al. Ain't mine. "Heroes" was written by Howard Gordon and Tim Minear - much of the following is based on their work.  
Spoilers: BtVS/Ats up to and including "Heroes".  
Distribution: If anyone is crazy enough to want this, please ask first.  
Author's notes: This is unbeta'd, so constructive criticism welcome. Parts one and two can be found here http://www.escribe.com/tv/bafluff/m10966.html and here http://www.escribe.com/tv/bafluff/m12892.html in the escribe archives, or at FanFiction.net.  
All threats, stakes, exploding emails, horses' heads etc can be sent to the address above.  
  
  
Part Three A  
  
  
"If you need help, then look no further." Doyle crossed his arms and leaned one hip against Cordelia's desk, his attempt at casual sincerity coming across as self-conscious and awkward. "Angel Investigations is the best! Our rats are low..."  
  
"Our rates!" Cordelia insisted from her place behind the camera.  
  
"It says 'rats'," Doyle countered, pointing to the misspelled cue taped to the wall behind her. Seeing the brunette's glare, he bit back the rest of his retort and continued the spiel. "Our rates are low, but our standards are high. When the chips are down, and you're at the end of your rope you need someone that you can count on. And that's what you'll find here, someone that will go all the way, no matter what. So don't lose hope. Come on over to our offices and you'll see that there's still heroes in this world." Clearing his throat, Doyle shifted his gaze from the lens to Cordy. "Is that it? Am I done?"  
  
"I don't know," she replied, hitting the stop button on the camera. "I'm not getting every man, I'm getting ... weasel. We don't want weasel?"  
  
"I don't know," Doyle sniped to cover his hurt feelings, "I think people will be pouring in as soon as they hear about our low rats." Seeing Cordelia's weary expression, he quickly changed tack and put on his supportive face. "I could take another crack at it."  
  
"I don't think so." As she took down the cue cards, Doyle watched her inquiringly.  
  
"Weasel factor, huh?"  
  
"Doyle, I didn't mean it like that. I'm sorry. I'm just ..." Cordelia sighed. "I feel kind of hopeless with him down there doing the non-profit brooding. He's been in a permanent funk since his little excursion to Sunnyhell. I know he's got a broken heart, but am I just supposed to stand by and watch our business go belly up?"  
  
"I guess seeing Buffy again just got him where he lives."  
  
"That's all very sad," Cordelia replied, her tone not echoing the sentiment of her words, "But we live here too. And now that Angel is in the realm of the living we can't take on any cases that require super vampire strength. We need all the non-powerful-demon business we can get."   
  
"We'll manage, princess," Doyle said comfortingly, "We always do. I'll talk to him." Leaving the exasperated brunette behind, Doyle headed through Angel's office, and down the stairs into the apartment below. Dull thuds and the sound of heavy breathing filled the room, emanating from a tall dark-haired man who was engrossed in pummelling a punching bag within an inch of its life.  
  
"Hey," Doyle interrupted, a little concerned about the intense expression on his boss' face. "Is this a private catharsis or can anyone watch?"  
  
"What do you want?" Angel snapped, not missing a punch, his whole body tense as fist after fist connected with the bag.  
  
"Well, there's a girl upstairs who's not quite sad enough to cry in my arms, but keep up the dark cloud. I might get lucky."  
  
"I just need some time," Angel growled; sweat glistening on his red face and staining his light grey t-shirt a darker shade.  
  
"Believe me I know. Last time I saw my ex, she was around for five minutes and I was a wreck for days. Amazing how they can do that to you."  
  
"I saw Buffy for a little more then five minutes." Throwing one final punch, Angel then pulled the bag towards him, panting heavily as he hugged it and let it support his weight.  
  
"And you need to see her for a hell of a lot more than that man! What's your problem? You're a real live flesh-and-blood human, you have the one thing you wanted most in your unnaturally long life and you and Buffy ... you're not gonna do anything about it?" Doyle couldn't comprehend what was running through the ex-vampire's head.  
  
Angel closed his eyes, resting his forehead briefly against the punching bag before slowly making his way to the couch. Unable to hold back the sigh of relief that escaped his lips, he sank heavily into the cushions, leaning his head back and gazing blankly at the ceiling as he pondered Doyle's question. Why wasn't he with Buffy? Now he could have the one thing that he'd wanted so badly that he could hardly let himself dream about it ... and he was holding back.  
  
"I'm weak," he sighed, after several moments had passed. "I'm weak and I'm mortal, and I'm no use to Buffy like this."  
  
"What?" Doyle sat down opposite Angel. "What are you talking about?"  
  
"Buffy needs someone strong, someone who can take care of himself, someone who doesn't need rescuing."  
  
"Angel, you of all people are more than capable of looking after yourself!"  
  
"Yeah, so capable that I needed you to rescue me from the Mohra demon!" Angel looked pointedly at Doyle, who shifted uncomfortably as he tried to come up with a suitable rebuttal.  
  
"Well, hey, who runs across demons everyday?" he offered weakly.  
  
"Buffy does!" Angel stood and started pacing the room, the tension in his body needing an outlet. "She's a slayer, on the hellmouth ... demon's are part of her everyday life. She doesn't need me there to distract her - which I will if she has to worry about saving me all the time."  
  
"You're right," Doyle said. "She doesn't need you here to distract her. She doesn't need you to fight with her, she just needs you to love her."  
  
"And I do." Angel paused, and sighed. "It's just ... fighting with her gave me a purpose. I was helping her ... it wasn't just about righting wrongs, or doing good ... I was helping keep her safe. Even when I came here to LA ... I wasn't with her but I felt like I was still helping her by doing my part for the Powers That Be. And now ..." Angel snorted, "Even Xander was more help than I was."  
  
"What exactly happened in Sunnydale?" Doyle's face was alight with curiosity. "You disappeared and then showed up hours later without barely any explanation. Cordy thought you'd finally come to your senses and were going to sort it out with Buffy, but you came home even more depressed than ever!"  
  
Taking a seat on the couch once more, Angel grimaced as he recalled the look on Buffy's face when Willow's spell was lifted, and everyone's minds were freed from magical influence. Her expression had been a combination of fear and embarrassment and disgust ... she had obviously been less than impressed with his fighting abilities. And like the coward that he was he left without a word - too ashamed and afraid of rejection to speak to her. He was weak physically, and he was weak emotionally - wallowing in self-pity and writhing with jealousy over Spike.  
  
"What about Spike?" Angel snapped out of his reverie at Doyle's question, realizing that he had growled the vampire's name out loud in bitter jealousy. Gritting his teeth, he forced himself to remain calm enough to offer an explanation.  
  
"Willow performed a spell that went wrong, leading Buffy and Spike to announce their engagement." Doyle blinked.  
  
"Come again?"  
  
"The spell made them think they were in love, and they got engage..." Angel sat motionless on the couch, his expression stone-faced as Doyle erupted in a fit of laughter.   
  
"Oh man!" he gasped through his hilarity. "Engaged ... what a classic! I can just see it ... them all lovey-dovey and you all green-eyed monster ..." Doyle took in Angel's stiff posture and unamused glare, and quickly sobered up. "Come on ... you can't be jealous, you know it was the spell."  
  
Intellectually Angel knew Doyle was right - it was Willow's spell that had convinced Buffy that Spike was the love of her life, and forced Angel to so shamefully beg her to come back to him. But just the memory of Spike kissing her, caressing her, running his hands over her body ... Angel frowned and forced himself to stay in control. He had left Buffy of his own free will, had resisted going back to her now that he was human; he had given up all right to claim her as his own, to feel anger at the thought of someone else touching her. That didn't make it any easier though.  
  
Taking note of the expression on his boss' face - one that indicated serious brooding was in the works - Doyle decided to change the subject.  
  
"So what's the plan for Angel Investigations now? What do we do?" Gazing back at his friend, Angel pushed the painful thoughts to the back of his mind for the moment, and tried to focus on the future.  
  
"I guess we keep on doing what we've been doing. The Mohra demon said that a great darkness is coming, an 'End of Days' kind of bad."  
  
"So much for the security of long-term savings bonds, huh?" Doyle joked, trying to lighten the mood.  
  
"I feel something coming Doyle," Angel was suddenly quite serious. "I don't know what, but I know we're a part of it."  
  
"Well, if it's a fight they want ... can't someone else give it to them?" Doyle finally managed to drag a smile out of Angel. "It seems unfair, you know? You're human now ... and you've still got to save the helpless types and fight the apocalypse?"  
  
"Well it's not like I'm going to be much good at the actual fighting, but I still have to do what I can, I can't just stop and pretend that we're living in Disneyland." Angel sighed. "Fight the good fight ... whichever way you can."  
  
"Tell you what," Doyle offered. "You fight, and I'll keep score."  
  
  
********************  
  
"You're sure this is the place?" Angel asked later that day, as he and Doyle gingerly made their way through an abandoned apartment building.  
  
"What, you don't think I'd recognize this award-winning interior design anywhere?" Doyle replied sarcastically, gesturing to the threadbare and damaged furnishings. "I don't get it, I thought these visions were over now that you're human?" Angel shrugged in response, moving his search further down the corridor.  
  
"The Powers move in mysterious ways."  
  
"That they do," Doyle agreed, trailing behind his boss. "I was just working up to telling Delia about my not-so-human half, and wham, instant migraine."  
  
"Doyle." Angel quietly caught his attention, nodding towards a table with a meal laid out upon it.  
  
"Signs of life." Doyle reached out a hand to touch the food. "Still warm. They left in a hurry."   
  
Scanning the room once more, Angel moved towards the hallway, frustration at their lack of success evident in his features. Following the ex-vampire Doyle was almost out of the room before he suddenly stopped, his hand reaching out to grab his companion's arm. As Angel stared at him in curiosity, Doyle tilted his head to one side, obviously straining to hear a sound. Nodding back the way they had came, he raised a finger to his lips and made a shushing gesture, then lightly stepped further back into the room. He stood there for a moment looking around, before bending over and grasping one end of a rug, throwing it back to reveal a trap door in the floor. Angel came to stand beside him as he lifted up the door, and their powerful torches cut through the darkness below.   
  
"Don't be afraid," Angel said to the group of demons that were revealed by the light, huddling below them in fear. "It's okay," he reassured. "We're here to help."  
  
  
********************  
  
  
A short time later the demons had reluctantly emerged from their hiding place, and were now gathered in their living are, sharing their story with Angel and Doyle.  
  
"We gave all out money to a man who promised to get us passports and safe passage on a ship." The male leader of the group explained. "We didn't know. It was stupid of us." The demon spread his hands, shaking his head at his own naiveté. "He disappeared with our money and the ship never came."  
  
"Where were you going?" Angel asked, from the armchair his hosts had insisted he take.  
  
"Briole. Small island off the coast of Ecuador. Others of our kind have found sanctuary there."  
  
"Sanctuary from whom?" Before Angel's question could be answered two demon children - a small girl, a young teenage boy - rushed into the room, obviously exhausted and distraught.  
  
"They're close," the boy panted urgently. "They almost got us. We lost half of our supplies." The elder demon, who had risen at the children's entrance, laid a reassuring hand on the boy's shoulder.  
  
"Rieff, we have a guest," he chided mildly. "It's the Promised One." Turning, the boy caught sight of Angel and Doyle for the first time, and rolled his eyes in annoyance.  
  
"Terrific," he said with disgust. Angel cleared his throat, knowing that he had missed out on some vital information, and not at all easy with the fact.  
  
"I think there's been some kind of misunderstanding?"  
  
"Oh, I don't think so," the older demon replied confidently. "Many of our prophecies are cryptic, but on one thing they are all clear - in the final days of this century the Promised One will appear and save us from the Scourge." Doyle paled at those words, before moving unnoticed across the room to gaze out a window.  
  
"The Scourge." It was clear Angel had no idea what they were talking about.  
  
"He doesn't even know who they are," Rieff snorted. "How's he supposed to protect us from them?"  
  
"Rieff ..." the leader tried to calm the boy, but to no avail.  
  
"They're coming and no matter how many promised guys you throw at them, they're not going to stop until every last one of us is dead. You're going to get us all killed." After his heated outburst Rieff stormed out, the older demon turning to follow.  
  
"He's young," he said to Angel. "I'm sorry. Excuse me." Angel watched him leave the room before standing and joining Doyle at the window.  
  
"We need to deal with this," he spoke quietly, so the remaining demons couldn't overhear. "They think I'm some promised saviour." Looking closely at Doyle who was gazing out the window, Angel realized that he didn't have his full attention; something was obviously troubling him. "What?" It was a moment or two before Doyle answered.  
  
"The Scourge."   
  
"You know them. What are they?" Doyle looked at him.  
  
"Death."  
  
The answer shocked Angel, not so much for what Doyle said but the way he said it. The Irishman often feigned cowardice or reluctance to fight, mouthing off about his wish to stay out of the line of fire. Yet when it came to the crunch he was always there to back Angel up, always putting himself on the line no matter what sarcastic comments came flying out of his mouth. But now ... now Angel could see real fear in Doyle's face, his wide eyes flickering in something akin to panic. He was obviously disturbed by the mention of the Scourge, his face pale and his whole body tensed as if ready for flight. Angel was eager to find out all Doyle knew on the subject, but he was content to wait until his friend was composed and ready to share before digging for information. So they stood in silence for several long moments, before Doyle spoke up again.  
  
"They're an army of pure-blooded demons," he explained. "They have a big hate-on for us mixed heritage types. Very into pedigree." His next words were tinged with hate and remorse. "They hunt us down like animals."  
  
"No one fights back?" Angel questioned.  
  
"Sure they do. All the time. You can kill them, but these guys believe in what they're doing. They're ready to die for the cause."  
  
"Hard to fight fanatics," Angel observed.  
  
"More like impossible." Doyle paused for a moment, his expression strained as he reluctantly began his story. "A few years ago a Brachen demon came to see me. His clan were on the run, hiding out, and they wanted my help until they could skip town." He shook his head shamefully.  
  
"I punked out. I'd only just found out about my demon side. I didn't know what it meant." Doyle's tone was anxious, his eyes pleading for understanding. "The idea of having family obligations with guys that looked like big blue pin cushions, it was just a little bit too much to take right then."  
  
"And what happened?" Angel asked, already knowing the answer.  
  
"A few days later I got these painful flashes, all these images in my head of the clan being murdered." Doyle shuddered at the memory. "I thought I was having a stroke. I didn't know what the images meant. But I had to know if what they showed me was a dream, or real." He paused, his face ashen. "It wasn't a dream."  
  
"You couldn't have known." Angel reasoned, trying to ease his friend's guilt.  
  
"These people are going to need more then their mythic promised one. The contractually obligated 500 might be a start. You can't fight the Scourge, Angel."  
  
"It won't come to that," Angel replied determinedly, "Because we're going to get them out of here."  
  
  
********************  
  
  
"Hello?" Cordelia called out, as she walked gingerly through the abandoned building she had been directed to. "Angel?" Slowly making her way down a corridor, she peered through the half open doorways that she passed, not seeing any sign of life. "Hello?" At that moment a demon stepped into the doorway in front of her, and Cordy gasped in shock as she whipped a small bottle out of her jacket pocket.   
  
"While this may look like a ..." Cordelia glanced at the bottle she held defensively in front of her "... popular brand of breath freshener," she quickly uncapped it, "It really a cunningly disguised demon repellent!" A few puffs of moisture sprayed into the air and the demon, unfazed by Cordelia's behaviour, sniffed inquisitively.  
  
"Wintergreen," he commented mildly, as Doyle appeared at the end of the hall.  
  
"Cordy, it's okay," he said, pushing his way through the demons that had gathered. "We're here to help them."  
  
"Oh. Oh, hi!" she offered weakly to the demon she had assaulted with breath freshener, smiling shamefacedly as she pocketed the bottle. "Where's Angel?" she hissed to Doyle.  
  
"He's trying to secure documents to get them out of the country," he replied. "Did you get the truck?"  
  
"Yes! It's out front. Hey, Doyle" she whispered urgently, "You did notice that these folks are demons?'  
  
"Yeah, I know that," he responded to her sarcasm. "That doesn't make them bad people."  
  
"Excuse us a sec?" Cordelia said to the demons, as she grabbed Doyle's arm and dragged him around the corner into an empty room. "Mission statement check. Aren't we supposed to be battling the forces of darkness?"  
  
"They're not forces of darkness," he argued. "They're half-human, and they're in trouble. Now, we don't have a lot of time. Angel wants you to go down to the LA harbour, pier 12, slip 4, the 'Quintessa'." Doyle handed over a piece of paper with the details. "Use Angel's name. He knows the Captain."  
  
"So, we're booking them on a cruise?" Cordelia queried irritably.  
  
"Basically, yeah."  
  
"I'm guessing not Carnival," she sniped.  
  
"The guy runs a freighter." Doyle explained. "He owes Angel some money. He does this, they're even."  
  
"Ho, ho, hang on!" Cordelia was outraged. "This guy owes Angel money? Why aren't we collecting it?"  
  
"Cordy, oppressed demon people here, not getting any safer!"  
  
"So, we're sending them on a cruise, and we're paying for it?"  
  
"Please. Just do it?" Doyle pleaded. "We need to know the ship is ready before we can move everyone." His urgent tone got through to Cordelia, who suddenly became aware of the gravity of the situation.  
  
"Bad things are coming aren't they?" she stated quietly.  
  
"Very bad things," was the grim response, and she sighed heavily.  
  
"I'm on it."  
  
"Just give me a call on the cell the minute it's done," Doyle instructed.  
  
"Okay." Cordelia hurried away on her mission, while Doyle headed back to the demons, finding them in heated discussion.  
  
"We don't have time for this," the elder Lister fumed. "What's wrong with that boy?"  
  
"What is it?" Doyle asked.  
  
"Rieff. He took off." The demon shook his head. "He does this every time. He'll be back."  
  
"No he won't." The girl demon who had come in with Rieff earlier spoke up hesitantly, instantly getting their attention. "He says there isn't any promised one. He wasn't going to stay here and get killed with the rest of us." The girl's voice trembled as she continued. "We're not going to get killed, are we?"  
  
"No," Doyle denied instantly, "No one's going to get killed." Turning quickly back to the adult, he handed over his cell phone. "Cordelia is going to call. When she does, clear out and go to the ship. If you're not here when I get back, I'll bring the boy to you there." Walking over to the little girl, he crouched down in front of her speaking gently so as not to frighten her. "Hey, do you know where he went?"  
  
  
********************  
  
  
"Rieff! Wait!" Doyle caught sight of the younger demon as he made his way along an empty, dirty street. "Wait," he repeated, as he hurried up to him. "You're fast."  
  
"I'm walking," Rieff snorted. "You're just old."  
  
"Yeah, okay." Doyle agreed, acknowledging that his attempt at being friendly was pretty lame. "You know what, we ought to go. Angel's got a way out, a ship."  
  
"Great. Have fun. Take some Dramamine," was the mocking reply.  
  
"You're not coming with?" Doyle asked.  
  
"You can't make me," Rieff said defiantly.  
  
"You're right." Doyle stopped walking. "You're old enough. It's your choice."  
  
"Right." Rieff halted, and turned back to face Doyle. "A choice. Where do I want to be hated? You wouldn't get it. You're passing." Doyle walked closer, as Rieff became more upset. "My mother was the same way. You can walk down the street. She took me out with her one day, I was so excited, just out in the neighbourhood with all the other kids. You know what day it was?" Doyle sighed and looked away, unable to meet the boy's eyes. "What day was it?" Rieff demanded.  
  
"It was Halloween."  
  
"So that's my choice - I can be hated by humans because their scared of me, or by pure-bloods who want to kill me. It's so easy, it's not much of a choice."  
  
"Seems to me your family is one place where you know you belong." Rieff turned away with a dismissive wave of his hand, and Doyle grasped for something that would get through to him. "Hey, I bet you that little girl is going to miss you."  
  
"Yeah, well, she's dead by now." Rieff stopped again, obviously disturbed by the thought. "Or might as well be. They're coming again. I can feel it."  
  
"It's going to be different this time," Doyle assured him.  
  
"Why? Because your friend is the promised one?" The boy nodded as Doyle sighed and looked away. "So you know it's not true."  
  
"No, I don't!" Doyle retorted immediately. "I don't know anything about your people's myths and legends. But I do know Angel, and he's the genuine article."  
  
"My hero," Rieff mocked.  
  
"Yeah, that's exactly what he is." Doyle was earnest - he needed to get through to the boy and he needed to do it quickly. "And your people can call him 'the promised one' or the 'dark avenger', what does it matter?"  
  
"It matters because it's a lie!"  
  
"They put their faith in something, Rieff. You don't have to if you don't want to. Maybe Angel doesn't know what he's doing. It's possible," Doyle admitted. "But the other option - losing yourself somewhere, hoping it all goes away, I know that never works. Rieff swallowed, the older man's words sinking in. "How about we go find your family?" The boy didn't resist as Doyle put a hand on his shoulder, and urged him back the way they came. Hurrying they jogged along the road and down some steps, where Doyle took the lead.  
  
"Hey. This way," Rieff said, pointing in the opposite direction that Doyle had taken,  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"I thought all Brachen demons had a good sense of direction."  
  
"Yeah and we're all pretty good at basketball, too," Doyle joked, before looking down the alley, tilting his head as he strained to hear something.  
  
"What?" Rieff followed his gaze, his expression turning fearful as his ears picked up the sound of marching soldiers, and looming shadows on the side of a building heralded their arrival. "They're here."  
  
"Come on, let's go!" Doyle cried, pulling Rieff with him as he ducked down behind a large bin, crouching low to the ground as they then dashed down the street away from the soldiers.  
  
"In here." Pointing to a building Doyle dragged the boy inside, slamming the door behind them just as the Scourge came into view. Panting heavily they peered through venetian blinds, watching fearfully as the demons spread out along the street.   
  
"Sit tight," Doyle ordered, as the demons searched the neighbourhood, storming into buildings and running up fire escapes. A tall demon, who appeared to be the leader of the group, tossed a flaming torch into an abandoned car, setting it alight.  
  
"Destroy it all!" it cried at the top of its voice, and the others hurried to do its bidding - smashing windows and kicking over rubbish bins.   
  
"Doyle." Rieff shrank away from the window, terrified as he saw one of the demons making its way towards their hideout.  
  
"Stay here," Doyle ordered. "You understand?" Barely waiting for the frightened boy to nod his assent, Doyle brought his demon side to the fore and darted out of the building. Knocking a soldier out of his way, he ran up the street, only to find it blocked by a number of the Scourge. Spinning around he ran back the other way, pushing a demon to the ground as he raced down the block, desperately acting as bait to lead the demons away from Rieff. Relieved that they seem to be following his mad dash, he put on a burst of speed as he rounded the corner, trying to get out of sight so he could find a hiding place. As he sprinted past the building that the Lister demons had been squatting in, a hand reached out from the doorway and pulled him inside.  
  
"They're coming."  
  
  
********************  
  
  
"They were here, Sir, recently." In their search for the fugitives, the demons had spread out, scouring the run-down buildings in search of their missing prey.  
  
"And when the lights go out, where do the vermin go?" The leader of the group, a particularly vicious looking demon, surveyed the room they were searching. Kicking the threadbare rug aside, he smirked as a trap door was revealed. Another demon knelt down and wrenched the trap door open - to find nobody hiding inside.  
  
"Keep looking," the commander ordered, snarling in frustration.  
  
As the Scourge looked through the rooms, Angel and Doyle watched them from their hiding place - a cavity between the walls of the building, where the plumbing and wiring ran. Barely daring to breathe, they tried to remain as still as possible, freezing as one demon moved in their direction.   
  
"This is a waste of time! Clear the area! Move!" Exhaling heavily as the Scourge hurried away, the two men eased themselves out of their dusty confines.  
  
"You get to the ship," Angel ordered as they headed towards the exit. "I'm going to follow them and try to find out what they're up to."  
  
"Don't be stupid man," Doyle argued. "You won't stand a chance if they catch you."  
  
"That's why I'm not going to get caught," Angel retaliated. "Look, you need to look after the others, make sure they get away safely." And with that he hurried out the door, not wanting to lose sight of the Scourge.  
  
As Doyle made to follow him, Rieff suddenly appeared in the doorway, looking around worriedly.  
  
"Where is everyone?" he asked.  
  
"Right where they're supposed to be, I hope."  
  
  
********************  
  
  
"Look, I've got my clearance from the Harbour Master. We have to go now. I have a schedule to keep." The captain of the vessel Cordelia had visited was anxious to get underway, both because of his schedule and the unlikely cargo he was carrying.  
  
"I'm sure they'll be here, Captain," Cordy assured him, as she helped some of the Lister demons down the ladder into the hold. "Just a few more minutes."  
  
"Angel said he'd cut my debt in half if I do him this favour, right?"  
  
"Yep, half, that's what he said," Cordelia lied. "Big whopping fifty percent - quite a deal."  
  
"He takes 60% off," the captain retaliated, "Then I'll wait." Pretending to think about if briefly, Cordy drew on her excellent acting skills as she put a resigned expression on her face.  
  
"You drive a hard bargain." As the captain headed for the bridge, one of the Lister demons approached Cordelia.  
  
"I can't thank you and your friends enough," he said. "I'm sure Rieff is in safe hands."  
  
"Doyle will get him here," she reassured him.  
  
"Yes, he is a good one. He understands our suffering."  
  
"We both do." Cordelia's tone was more than a little tart, as she took offence at the slight on her compassionate qualities, or lack thereof.  
  
"I apologize," the Lister said sincerely. "I didn't mean to say that you didn't. It's just more familiar to Doyle." Seeing Cordelia's confused expression, he elaborated further. "He has to live with a certain amount of persecution. You always do when you're half demon."  
  
"Demon?"  
  
  
********************  
  
  
Angel pressed himself to the concrete wall, peering around the corner as he tried to see what was happening. He had followed the Scourge back to an abandoned warehouse where all the members of the group appeared to be gathering, preparing for some sort of event. At one end of the warehouse a demon, obviously the leader, stood on a raised platform, addressing the demon troops as they stood stiffly before him.   
  
"The other day I was asked - 'Why hunt the mongrel? Doesn't its very inferiority guarantee that it poses no threat? Won't it die of it's own innate mortal stupidity?' Let me tell you, even the smallest of vermin need be addressed. Half-breeds. Worse. They keep crossbreeding. Forever diluting our precious demon blood with their weak simpering humanity."  
  
"Yeah!" the soldiers chorused.  
  
"If we allow this to happen," the commander ranted, "It's as good as giving up the call to evil altogether. It's as good as becoming human ourselves. Well, I say never!" The soldiers cheered, wholly caught up in the angry tirade. "I say we will not stop until each and every half-breed is erased and our purity rules this planet! We will not stop because the Higher Order demands it!" More cheers reverberated around the warehouse, as the leader worked the other demons into a frenzy.   
  
"Now, this very evening we take a giant step towards our goal. Tonight the half-breeds that have eluded us will be destroyed. And we know just where to find them, thanks to this good man ..." Angel watched, immediately concerned, as a nervous looking man was led towards the stage by two demons "... first mate on the ship they think means salvation, not annihilation. He comes to us for money, but he is a brother to our cause, and we invite him ..." the speaker paused dramatically, "... to witness the power of the beacon."  
  
At those words two of the Scourge moved to open a large door behind the commander. From inside they dragged out a multifaceted giant light, that was supported by a metal frame. On top of the strange machine there appeared to be a control panel, and as the demons flicked some switches there the machine began to glow, light radiating out through its panelled sides.  
  
"Tonight the Lister half-breeds will attempt to flee the country, but they shall not escape us. Along with any creature contaminated by human blood, they will perish the moment the cleansing light touches them. When the beacon reaches critical mass and detonates its reach will extend a quarter mile in every direction." Angel recoiled in horror, his distress only increasing as the commander turned to address the first mate. "Want to see how it works?"  
  
Itching to rush forward and fight the demons, Angel could only watch in horror as the demons forced him forward into the light's path. As it touched him he screamed horribly, and then was gone.  
  
"A fitting end for a sorry mutation." The soldiers were wound up by the display of power, eager to hunt and put it to use. "Go now and deliver this, our message!" The commander cried. "Our victory depends on it!" As the crowd cheered and rushed towards the exit Angel quickly backed away into a recess in the wall, the shadows hiding him from a casual observer. Luckily the Scourge were too caught up in their mission to notice him, and they rushed on by. After they had passed him, Angel quickly slid through a nearby doorway and spotted a lone demon preparing to ride a motorbike. Leaping forward quickly before the element of surprise was lost, Angel threw himself at the demon's back, putting all his strength into a blow to its head. Stunned, it fell to the ground, and Angel wasted no time in clambering aboard the motorbike, and zooming out of the warehouse.  
  
  
********************  
  
  
Cordy paced the deck of the ship anxiously, the captain mimicking her agitated movements. Her head whipped around to look at the gangplank at the sound of movement.  
  
"Someone's coming." Doyle and Rieff appeared at the top of the gangplank, out of breath and unsettled.  
  
"Do you have any idea what you put us through?" the Lister demanded of Rieff. "We got to get out of here!"  
  
"I'm sorry," he answered contritely.  
  
"Lets get you down with the others." As he turned to go, Rieff reached out and slapped Doyle's outstretched hand.  
  
"Thanks." The smile Doyle displayed for the departing boy slipped from his face as he became aware of Cordelia's annoyed expression.  
  
"What?"  
  
"You're alive!" she said, her expression implying she was anything but pleased by the fact.  
  
"And you're not happy?" Doyle replied, half jokingly, half hurt.  
  
"We were worried."  
  
"Oh." Doyle was irrationally pleased by Cordy's distress, and by the fact that she was more than sincere. "Well, its all going to be okay ..." Those words were barely out of his mouth before a stinging slap across the face stunned him. "What was that for?" he cried indignantly.  
  
"Why didn't you tell me that you were half demon?" Cordy demanded. "I thought we agreed that secrets are bad!" Doyle swallowed, not sure how Cordy found out, but sure that the conversation was only going to get worse.  
  
"I wanted to tell you. I was afraid." Going with the 'secrets are bad' theme, he decided to lay all his cards out on the table. "I thought if I did, you'd reject me."  
  
"I've rejected you way before now!" Cordy exclaimed. "So, you're half demon. Big Whoop! I can't believe you'd think I'd care about that. I mean, I work for a vampire! Hello?"  
  
"It's true. I just..."  
  
"What do you think I am, superficial?" The expression on Doyle's face was a curious one, raised eyebrows indicating that he had entertained that idea, and a growing smile showing he was pleased to be proven wrong. "So you're half demon. That's so far down the list, way under 'short' and 'poor'! Is there anything else I should know?" Struggling to contain the huge grin that threatened to spread across his face, Doyle endeavoured to keep calm until his burgeoning hopes were realized.  
  
"The half demons thing is pretty much my big secret."  
  
"Good. That's out. It's done." Cordy hesitated. "Would you ask me out to dinner already?"  
  
"Yeah?" Doyle could hardly believe his luck, but the enormous smile on Cordelia's face gave him all the confidence he needed. "Cordelia, would you like ..." At that moment she looked past him, distracted by movement on the dock.  
  
"It's Angel." The captain came out to join them as Angel pulled up on a motorcycle, and then hurried on board.  
  
"We have to shove off now," he instructed the captain.  
  
"What's going on?" Cordy asked.  
  
"I can't! I can't find my first mate!" the captain replied anxiously.  
  
"You won't. We're going. Get to the bridge." Responding to the authority and urgency in Angel's voice, the captain hurried away just as Doyle spotted the enemy's approach.  
  
"Angel, they're here." A convey of trucks and motorcycled pulled up on the pier beside the freighter, the beacon visible on the back of one of the trucks.  
  
"Angel."  
  
"Get below," he ordered Doyle and Cordelia. "Lock the doors."  
  
"What? You can't fight them!"  
  
"Look Doyle, I need you to protect Cordelia and the Listers."  
  
"But Ang..."  
  
"Move!" Angel yelled. "Now! Stay with the others." Doyle and Cordelia turned and ran, racing as fast as they could into the hold.  
  
"Lock the hatches," Doyle called to the assembled demons. "The Scourge is here. We're shoving off. We're gonna make it."  
  
Back up on deck Angel stood his ground, watching as a group of the Scourge demons approached up the gangplank. As they neared, he smiled faintly as his heartbeat thundered in his ears - no matter what happened, it was good to feel so vital, so alive. Clenching his hands, Angel then felt his clammy palms. His smile slipped. So maybe he hadn't missed everything that came with being human.  
  
Seeing Angel standing on deck, the four demons turned to the commander who was following them, as if asking what to do.  
  
"A weak human, not worth our attention. Find the Lister demons," it ordered. Moving to obey, the demons found their path blocked by Angel, who stood tense and pale before them. He had often heard of the expression 'he was quaking in his boots', and had not really understood how fear could affect a human. But now, now he was more than familiar with the concept. There was nothing more he wanted to do at this moment than run away and hide, but he couldn't. His life, Doyle and Cordy's lives, the Listers and countless others all relied on him, and they needed him to be strong. Even more so Angel needed to be strong for himself, to prove he was worthy. Worthy of what? Angel didn't have time to follow that train of thought, but the face he conjured in his mind to give him strength, a face with wide hazel eyes and framed by golden hair - that face proved enough motivation.  
  
"Kill him, painfully." The soldiers lunged towards Angel and he ducked, calling on the fighting skills he had developed over centuries to help him toss one of the demons over his shoulder. His success was short-lived however, as two of the remaining soldiers grabbed one of his arms each, restraining him as the third laid into him with a baton. Successive blows to the torso left Angel gasping in pain, the hard pole cutting painfully into his flesh.   
  
"Why don't you pick on someone more your own level of ugliness?" Angel had never been more relieved to find Doyle disobeying his orders, as his friend in full Brachen mode whacked a length of pipe down on his attacker's head. As the demon crumbled to the ground Angel wrenched free from the others' grips, reaching out to grab the pipe that Doyle tossed to him. Spinning he whipped the pipe around as hard and fast as he could, slamming it into a demon's stomach, leaving it moaning on the deck in agony. As Doyle engaged the remaining soldier, Angel turned to face the Commander, who had watched the fight in growing anger.  
  
With a snarl it leapt towards him, Angel shifting out of its way barely in time. Turning to face it, he was stunned by a quick punch to his head, and another to his stomach moments later. The force of the blows pushing him backwards, Angel managed to block the next before a powerful kick sent him tumbling onto a pile of wooden crates, the pipe dislodged from his grip. Standing over him the commander lifted its foot up to strike a punishing blow, but Angel threw himself away just in time, the crates shattering in his place under the demon's boot.   
  
As he stumbled away, the demon lunged after him, grabbing at him awkwardly before stumbling, sending both of them tumbling through a hatch and down a long metal stairway into the cargo hold. As Cordy and the Lister demons watched in fear from below, Angel and the demon struggled, their hands at each other's neck, before they tumbled over the railing to a lower catwalk. Fortunately the demon broke Angel's fall, and his weight served to stun the commander sufficiently that Angel was able to stand unhindered. As he grabbed onto the railing to support his battered body, he saw in horror that the beacon was being lowered into the hold.  
  
"It's going to detonate!" he shouted. "Get out! Everybody out!" The floor below erupted into frenzied movement as the demons rushed to the exits. As Angel watched the beacon in horror, the demon commander rose from the floor, and grabbed him by the neck.  
  
"Welcome to a cleaner world," it snarled. "Soon only the pure bloods will be left standing." Angel struggled, tearing at the hands at his throat, his face twisted in pain. Just as his vision began to swim the pressure was lifted, and he heard Doyle's voice behind him.  
  
"Actually, pure boy," Doyle gripped the back of the demon's jacket, "You'll be on your ass." With that he heaved with all his might, and pushed the demon over the railing to the floor below. It landed awkwardly, head first, an audible crack as its neck broke with the impact.  
  
"Ahh!" Cordy cried, from where she and an adult demon were trying to force a door open. "They're locked from the outside. We're trapped!" Hurrying up a ladder, she crossed to the platform where Angel and Doyle now stood opposite the glowing beacon.  
  
"What does that thing do?" Doyle asked.  
  
"Its light kills anything with human blood," Angel said as he gazed across at the machine, his mind working frantically to come up with a solution.  
  
"Well, it's getting brighter and that doohickey ..." Doyle caught sight of the control panel's flashing lights, "It's fully armed, isn't it?"  
  
"Almost." Angel hesitated. "If I pull the cable, I think I can still shut it off."  
  
"How're you gonna do that without touching the light?" Doyle asked, as Cordelia bluntly sized up the situation.  
  
"Angel, that's suicide."  
  
"There's got to be another way," Doyle urged desperately. Angel looked down into the hold, seeing the Lister demons there watching in dread. Turning to Cordelia, he tried to put on a brave face to cover the fear and despair that were coursing through his body.  
  
"It's all right."  
  
"No!" Cordy denied, as Angel put a hand on Doyle's shoulder, silently asking him with his eyes to understand.  
  
"The good fight, yeah?" Doyle said, putting his own hand on Angel's arm. "You never know until you've been tested. I get that now." Before Angel could react Doyle drew back and threw a hard punch, sending him flying to the cargo hold floor below. As Rieff ran over to where Angel lay, groaning in pain and straining to stand, Doyle turned to Cordelia and kissed her. It was bittersweet moment, expressing their unspoken feelings and what might have been. A blue light shimmered between their lips as they parted, unnoticed as their eyes were locked on each other.  
  
"Too bad we'll never know ..." he said, as his face morphed into its demon appearance, "...if this is a face you could learn to love."  
  
"Doyle." From his position down below, Angel struggled to his feet, a terrible dread in his heart as he anticipated his friend's plan. Seeing Doyle step back from Cordelia and turn his gaze on the beacon, Angel ran over to the ladder that led up to the platform.  
  
"Doyle! Doyle!" Scrambling to the top of the ladder, Angel looked over in time to see Doyle jump over towards the beacon.  
  
"NO!" Grabbing hold of the metal frame that supported the weapon, Doyle turned his head to smile at Angel and Cordelia. "No!" Angel cried once more, but Doyle turned away, slipping back into his human features as he gripped hold of the cable. The killing light of the weapon grew brighter while he strained to rip the connection apart. As Cordy, Angel and the Lister demons watched in horror, the light began to tear at his face, his skin melting away. With a final, wrenching scream he pulled the cable apart, disappearing into nothingness as the beacon went dark.  
  
  
********************  
  
  
"If you need help, then look no further. Angel Investigations is the best! Our rats are low ..."  
  
"Rates!"   
  
Cordy sat on the couch in Angel's office, her knees drawn up to her chest as she watched the video she and Doyle had recorded earlier through red-rimmed eyes. Angel leaned on a chair beside her, his black clothing reflecting his mood.   
  
"It says 'rats'." On the screen, Doyle pointed to the cue sheets. "Our rates are low, but our standards are high. When the chips are down, and you're at the end of your rope you need someone that you can count on. And that's what you'll find here - someone that will go all the way, no matter what. So don't lose hope. Come on over to our offices and you'll see that there's still heroes in this world." Doyle looked away from the camera, clearing his throat. "Is that it? Am I done?"  
  
As static filled the screen, neither Cordelia or Angel moved to turn the TV off, remaining motionless as the buzz of the videotape filled the otherwise silent office. After a long moment, Angel rested one hand on Cordelia's shoulder, squeezing gently so as to offer a little comfort. As her hand came up to rest on his, Angel's face twisted in grief, and an uncontrollable sob racked his body.   
  
All the tension and anger and despair that he had been feeling swelled to breaking point, and he fell into a fit of tears, shaking within the arms Cordelia immediately wrapped around him. Hunching over, he hid his face against her shoulder while she gently stroked his head, making soft shushing noises as salty tears slid quietly down her own cheeks. Angel's grief overwhelmed him, and he clutched at Cordelia as he wept, feeling as though he was about to burst. Slowly though his sobs eased and his tears stopped flowing, and he straightened up, looking into Cordelia's understanding eyes. As he gazed at her and saw his pain mirrored in her face, a sudden resolve went through him, and he smiled sadly. Pressing a soft kiss to her forehead he then turned and left the office, leaving Cordelia staring after him, fearful of what was to come.  
  
  
********************  
  
  
"Why are you here lower being?" Angel stood in the Oracles' chamber, bristling with anger and glaring at the two supernatural beings who stood in front of him.  
  
"What have you brought us?" the female asked.  
  
"Don't you think you've taken enough from me tonight?" Angel snarled in response. "Why did you let this happen? You told me that I was released from my duty. Why did you send Doyle the vision?"  
  
"Your work is not yet complete. There are still battles to be fought, the war rages on." These words caught at Angel's mind, reminding him of something he had heard recently.  
  
"When we fought the Mohra demon, it said the End of Days had begun, that others were coming, soldiers of darkness. Was he was telling the truth?"  
  
"As far as such things can be told," the male replied.  
  
"The Mohra demon came to take a warrior from your cause, and it succeeded. Tonight the Scourge took another. Doyle was a good man, a good friend, he didn't deserve to die."  
  
"His journey was complete," the female said calmly, "His time at an end."  
  
"Doyle was my sole contact to the Powers That Be. Without his visions I'm fighting blind. Bring him back."  
  
"To what end?" the female asked. "To nullify his noble death? To leave his atonement unfulfilled?"  
  
"If it means he lives," Angel argued angrily.  
  
"He doesn't so that you may," the male said.  
  
"What is done cannot be undone," the female continued. "All will soon be made clear. For every door that closes, another opens ..." Angel looked at them helplessly, knowing that his arguments weren't working. This was wrong, Doyle should not have died - he would not have died if Angel had still been a vampire. The visions were his to follow, guidance towards his own redemption, not Doyle's.  
  
'When the chips are down, and you're at the end of your rope you need someone that you can count on. And that's what you'll find here - someone that will go all the way, no matter what.' Angel remembered Doyle's lines from the video - they were supposed to be about him, and now it was time to live up to them, or he'd never be anything, never be worthy of anything or anyone, let alone ...  
  
"But what is not done yet can be avoided. Take my life back. Somehow, I know you have the power. Hell, turn back time if you have to, so I can prevent this, so I can ... so I can stop myself becoming human." Angel felt a terrible pang at the thought of abandoning the future he could have with Buffy, the dreams that he had nurtured of sunlight and kisses and family. But he knew that future would be worth nothing if it were bought with another man's life. "If I had my strength, I could stop this."  
  
"The Brachen's fate would still be the same ... vampire or no," the male stated unequivocally. "It is was not his destiny that was affected by your change."  
  
"Please," Angel begged. He was my friend."  
  
"And so he shall ever be. But temporal folds are not to indulge at the whims of lower beings. Even so, too much time has passed, too many threads have been woven to be altered."  
  
"But I'm no use to the Powers like this, as a man." Angel shook his head in despair. "I can't protect anyone."  
  
"You must," the female declared. "With the Days' End mankind is doomed without the Slayer, and the Slayer is doomed without you."  
  
"What?" Angel froze, his heart skipping a beat. "What happens to the Slayer when these soldiers come?"  
  
"What happens to all mortal beings. Albeit sooner in her case."  
  
"She'll die?" Angel was filled with a sudden resolve. "Then I'm here to beg for her life."  
  
"It is not our place to grant life or death." The two Oracles turned to leave, unwilling to speak more on the matter.  
  
"Wait!" The force with which Angel spoke surprised them, and they halted in their tracks. "You have to make this right. Either you turn me back into a vampire ..." Angel swallowed, the enormity of what he was asking leaving his mouth dry, " ... or I find a way to do it myself, regardless the risk to my soul. She can't die." His voice broke on that last word, his eyes revealing the horror of that prospect. "Look I can't protect her this way, not as a man."  
  
"You're asking to be what you were, a demon with a soul, because of the slayer?" The female Oracle's eyes were alight with curiosity.  
  
"Oh this is a matter of love - it does not concern us, lower being." The male turned to leave, dismissing Angel out of hand.  
  
"Yes it does," he argued. "I'm no good to you like this, I can't protect her, not as a man. I know you have it in your power to make this right. Please."  
  
"You are wrong," the female declared to her male counterpart. "This one is willing to sacrifice every drop f human happiness and love he has ever known for another." She looked at Angel with respect. "He is not a lower being." The two Oracles looked at each other, head's cocked to one side as if they were communicating telepathically.  
  
"There is a way," the male said, "But it is not to be undertaken lightly."  
  
"We will call forth your demon's corporeal form," the female continued, "from another time and another place. Into it we will pour your essence, binding your soul to the inanimate form even as this living one falls away. No longer will you be able to breathe in the air or walk in the sunlight. Are you willing to take this step?"  
  
Without hesitation, Angel nodded.  
  
"So be it." The Oracles moved to the centre of the room and clasped hands, their eyes falling shut. They were motionless, and as Angel watched the light in the bright chamber flickered, dulling even as a small pocket of light near him grew. Pinpricks of light grew and began swirling in a spiral, as if thousands of fireflies had been called forth. In their midst a figure began to form, pulsing as it took shape. Angel gasped as the face appeared, demonic features twisted in a snarl. In the past few days Angel had been fascinated with his reflection - not through vanity, but with the unreal experience of seeing himself after so many years without. This though, was something he had never seen, his own face distorted by the demon.  
  
Totally absorbed by the display in front of him, it was a few moments before Angel realised his own body was pulsing with light, his vision slowly fading as he felt his spirit lift, and free itself from the human form. Suddenly all he was aware of was a bright, bright light, before he vaguely registered hitting the hard ground in the chamber beneath the post office, his head slamming against the rock floor before the blackness that was clouding his vision totally consumed him.  
  
  
********************   
  



End file.
